


Warped

by cbraxs



Category: Time Warp Trio (Cartoon)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Attempt at Humor, Comedy, Gen, High School, Historical Accuracy, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Magic, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2018-12-26 19:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 44,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12065862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cbraxs/pseuds/cbraxs
Summary: Joe's life was normal for the first time in a while until Izzy's arrival slowly reveals Mad Jack's new plan to rule eternity. The gang must balance school, their lives, and the occasional rendezvous across time while figuring out: where's Izzy's Dad, why are the girls lying about her identity, what's Mad Jack's ultimate plan, and how many mysteries can someone take before snapping?





	1. Chapter 1

New York City was in the midst of a being assaulted by a thunderstorm. Inky black clouds covered every inch of the sky. Water flooded the already crowded streets. Anyone with sense would have found shelter from the barrage of rain. 

From the outside, the storm appeared to zero in a particular brick apartment complex. Inside, Anthony Shabazz slammed his suitcase shut and stared out the window. The tempest outside, he thought, was made especially to mock his internal thoughts. 

Was he doing the right thing? He had racked his brain for about a week, pondering this question, but hadn't come up with an answer that satisfied him 100%. Anthony knew that he ultimately had no choice in the matter, but— 

A flash of lightning followed by a clap of thunder jolted him out of his thoughts with a sneeze. He hoped that he'd be traveling to a time period without rain. Thunderstorms always made him sneezy. 

Anthony locked his case and exited his bedroom. With a snap of his fingers, green mist collected around his hand and formed a skeleton key. He locked the door. He didn’t want _her_ to get curious and go snooping through his things, looking for answers. 

Anthony was known for being forgetful. Just his luck, his daughter would stumble upon a time bomb he forgot to detonate, and she'd be hurled into the Dark Ages, or, heaven forbid, the nineteen-seventies, with no way to get back home. 

He set his suitcase down outside of his daughter's room and went in. Her room was tidy and neat. Band posters and family pictures hung on the wall. Anthony lingered at a picture of his daughter and his wife, Dulari, in front of the white limestone side of the Pyramids of Giza. His heart ached for a happier time. 

His daughter slept like a rock, her limbs splayed wildly across the mattress. The bed covers sat in a clump on the floor. Her pet rabbit, Houdini, slept soundly on her stomach. 

A warm smile spread across his face. Anthony held out his hand. In a poof of green mist, a handwritten letter and an earring box appeared in his hand. He set them down on the dresser next to her bed. 

Thunder boomed outside. Anthony clamped his hand over his nose and mouth to stifle a sneeze. His daughter murmured in her sleep and rolled to her side. She snuggled Houdini to her chest. 

His daughter was an obedient girl, but if he'd left while she was awake, she'd ask too many questions. He didn't have enough time to give her answers. 

He kissed her forehead and covered her with the comforter. She didn't budge. He stared at her for a moment. Was he making the right choice? What would Dulari have done? Would she have left their only daughter all alone is she was in his place? 

Anthony's gut twisted. He was out of time. That lunatic was coming for her, so Anthony had to get to _him_ first before that madman got his hands on his daughter for whatever dastardly plot he was brewing. 

He closed the door, grabbed the suitcase, and headed to the living room so he wouldn’t wake her when he warped. Anthony fished out his fifty-two card deck, selected the right ones, and ripped them in half. In between the two halves of cards, green energy pooled out like water. The light congealed until it formed a glowing green portal. On the other side was, well, he was about to find out. 

Another clap of thunder shook the apartment complex. Anthony took a deep breath and steeled himself. He entered the portal and disappeared in a flash and a sneeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make art. Check it out if you want.
> 
> [My DeviantArt](https://cbraxs.deviantart.com)   
>  [My tumblr](https://cbraxs.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

A layer of fresh white snow covered the sidewalks and buildings of a Progressive Era New York City. Horse drawn carriages and vintage cars trampled the snow in the road into brown slush. Pedestrians dashed between vehicles. Children ran free in the streets as they tossed balls back and forth. 

The pale winter sun had little effect on the world below. Women in furs and elaborate hats, and men in long coats and top hats traversed the sidewalk, their breath visible in the frigid air. 

Amidst the hustle and bustle, no one noticed the swirling green vortex open up on the porch of an apartment complex and spit out three boys: Joe, Sam, and Fred. The vortex closed and the trio landed with a thud on top of each other. 

Joe groaned and rubbed a kink out of his shoulder. “Everyone okay?” 

“Besides my broken neck?” Fred asked and surveyed their surroundings. “Where the heck are we, the fifties?” 

Besides Joe, Sam sat up. He cleaned a smudge on his glasses and put them back on. “Ford Model T cars, old timey clothes, horses in the road. It looks like the nineteen-hundreds.” Sam gasped. “We must be a hundred years in the past!” 

Joe shot Sam a look. “Way to go, Sam.” 

“Me? I’m not the one who had my best friend hanging from the rafters!” 

“Easy, guys,” Fred said. “Let’s just find _The Book_ and—” 

“Wait.” Joe frowned and looked around. “Where’s—” 

The door of the apartment flew open. A blonde woman wielded a cane overhead and about to beat them to death. 

Killed before they were even born. What else was new? 

~*~ 

Before the three of them were nearly assaulted by a cane-wielding psycho, it was a normal day in their seventh-period History class. Ms. Kitsch allowed them to work on their homework worksheets in class while she read a book with a dragon on it. 

Joe, Sam, and Fred sat together the farthest from the door and the closest to the windows. Four desks were pushed together, the spare desk across from Joe. 

Most of the class either chatted, texted, or napped. Sam dutifully worked on his homework. while Fred bobbed his head to the music on his phone. Joe shuffled his deck of magic cards and nudged Fred next to him. 

“Pick a card,” Joe said. 

Fred pulled out an earbud and rolled his eyes. “Again? Come on, Joe...” 

“I got it this time. Honest.” 

Fred relented and drew a card. 

“Now write your name on it.” 

“Uh...” Fred patted himself down. He nudged Sam. “Hey, you got a pen?” 

Sam sighed. “You know, one of these days you should really bring your own materials to school.” 

Fred put his arm around Sam and jostled him. “Why would I do that when we have you around, Sam?” 

Sam handed him a pen. Fred wrote down his name and handed the card back to Joe. 

Joe grinned and shuffled the deck again. “Alright, now—” 

“Joseph!” 

Joe jumped and scattered his cards across the desk. His classmates snickered at him. 

Ms. Kitsch stood at the front of the class next to a girl he did recognize. His teacher shook her head. “Joseph, please put your cards away until after school.” 

He nodded. His cheeks warmed. “Sorry, ma’am.” 

She cleared her throat. “As I was saying, we have a new student in the class. Want to introduce yourself?” 

The girl wrung her hands together. Her eyes fluttered from person to person. “I’m Izzy Shabazz.” 

For a second, Joe swore her eyes studied him, but as soon as he noticed it, her eyes were averted elsewhere. 

“Anything you want to share about yourself, Isabella?” 

“Isadora,” she corrected. “Um, I like art. Painting, sculpting. History’s cool, too.” 

Ms. Kitsch eyes lit up. “We’re learning about the Renaissance this month. Do you have any interesting art history facts you’d care to share?” 

The girl—Isadora— scrunched up her face in thought. “In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, a lot of artists used Mummy Brown for their paintings, which was made of actual, real live mummies.” 

Ms. Kitsch face fell. “Oh! Um...” 

“Pre-Raphaelite artist, Edward Burne-Jones, buried his tube of paint in his garden after he found out.” 

Kayla Hines, an attractive girl with long strawberry blonde hair, shot her hand up. “Is paint, like, still made of mummies? Cause I used to finger paint.” 

Isadora shrugged. “Let’s hope not.” 

Ms. Kitsch shifted, a little disturbed by the new student. She clapped her hands. “Right! Anyway, class, please make Isadora feel welcomed. Isadora, here’s your worksheet, due Monday. Take a seat in the empty chair back there, next to Samuel. Samuel, please raise your hand.” 

Sam cringed at his formal name but raised his hand. 

Isadora sat down in the empty seat. Two curly pigtails dangled from the sides of her head as she rummaged through her backpack for a pencil. 

Fred cleared his throat. “Hey, how’s it going?” 

An awkward beat. Izzy looked up, her brows knitted together confused. “Me?” 

“Uh, duh, you.” 

“Fred!” Sam hissed. “Don’t be rude.” 

Joe scooped up his cards. “Don’t take it personally. Fred was raised in the jungle.” 

Fred held his hands up and feigned offense. His smirk gave him away. “What? I’m just trying to greet her. ‘Make her feel welcomed’ and all that.” He turned his attention back to her. 

Isadora twisted her earrings. “I’m... fine. Thank you.” 

“As you know, I’m Fred. That’s Sam, and he’s Joe.” Fred motioned as he listed off their names. Sam nodded. Joe waved when his name was mentioned. 

She smiled. “Nice to meet you guys.” 

She and Sam turned their attention to their homework. Joe collected his cards and tried to resume his trick. Joe noticed Isadora watched them from the corner of his eye. 

Joe pulled out the Ace of Spades. “Was this your card?” 

Fred snorted. “No.” 

“How about... the Seven of Diamonds?” 

“Nuh uh.” 

Joe sighed. He knew he messed up when he spilled the cards, but he wanted to give it a go anyway. 

“Is this it?” Isadora said. Joe flinched. She held up the King of Clubs. _Fred the Freak_ was scribbled across the top. 

Fred snapped his fingers. “That’s the one.” 

Joe stared at the card as she handed it to him. “How did you get that?” 

“It was under your seat.” 

Sam, who had apparently been listening to them the entire time, chuckled under his breath. 

“Can you try with me?” Isadora asked. She spun her earrings. Joe noticed that they were little hourglasses. 

Joe grinned. For some reason, no one (besides his uncle Joe) ever wanted to see his tricks. “Sure.” 

They went through the same motions as before, minus Joe spilling the cards. He pulled out the Joker card. “Is this it?” 

Isadora shook her head. “Not quite.” 

“Then what about...” He reached behind her ear and pulled out the Queen of Hearts, with _Izzy_ scrawled underneath. “This?” 

Fred whistled, impressed. 

“Finally,” Sam muttered under his breath 

There was a twinkle in Isadora’s eyes. “Are you a magician?” 

“No,” Fred and Sam said in unison. 

Joe glared at them. “ _Yes_ , I am.” 

“That’s so cool,” she said. “So is my Dad.” 

She paused, her face contorted in sadness. It vanished as soon as it came, so Joe dismissed it. 

“Who’s your dad?” Sam asked. 

“The Sensational Shabazz.” 

Joe’s chin dropped. “No way. _He’s_ your dad?” 

Fred coughed, sneaking in an audible, “Dork.” 

Isadora nodded, but her face turned dark. She frowned, her green eyes searched for something in Joe’s face. “Don’t you—” 

Whatever she was going to say was drowned out by the school bell. On cue, everyone jumped up and swarmed to the door as Ms. Kitsch wished everyone a good weekend. Joe stuffed his cards back into his back pocket. “What’s your next class?” He asked her. 

“Art.” 

“I have math.” He hefted his backpack to his shoulder. “But if you’re interested, I’m auditioning for the talent show. A magic act. You could probably already tell that.” 

She nodded and stuffed her worksheet into her bag. 

Joe cleared his throat. “You can come watch if you want. It’s in the auditorium.” 

She said she would, but she seemed distracted. The trio left the class and left Isadora behind, her brow furrowed in thought. 

~*~ 

Joe thought he’d found his big ticket item. The teachers limited each act to be four minutes, so he figured he’d focus on one thing, something big. The Metamorphosis. 

The Metamorphosis was one of Joe’s favorite tricks. The magician would bind themselves in chains and be locked away in a box by their lovely assistant. The assistant would then stand on top of the box and shield them from the audience with a curtain. When the curtain dropped, the magician and the assistant would switch places. 

The problem? Joe wasn’t a hundred percent sure how the trick was done. 

And he didn’t have a big enough box. 

And the only chains he had were ones kids used to play _Cops and Robbers._

And Fred was far from lovely. 

Joe had to make due with a metal laundry hamper and Anna’s old pink bed sheets. He was grateful his friends were even willing to help. Fred slapped the handcuffs on him, while Sam stood on the catwalk, moving the spotlights around. 

Joe crawled into the hamper. Fred couldn’t stand on top without it caving in, so Fred stood in front, held up the sheets, and dropped them. When the sheets crumbled to the floor, Fred dashed behind hamper as Joe struggled to get out. The hamper wobbled and fell to one side. Joe shrieked. 

He tripped getting up, the cuffs still on one hand, and waved his arms in a flourish. “TA—” 

In a moment, Joe surveyed his audience. The teacher in charge slept, his head tilted back. Drool dribbled down his chin as he snored like a chainsaw. Two students were making out in the back row, shielded by the shadows. The janitor listened to his Walkman and pushed a sweeper vacuums down the isle. 

He dropped his arms. “Da.” 

Enthusiastic clapping made him jump. Isadora sat in the middle of the first row. He stared at her, surprised that she came. 

She forced a smile. “Well, that was—” 

A light plummeted from the rafters and it exploded on impact. 

“Sorry!” Sam called from the catwalk. “I was—AH!” 

Metal ground together. Cables snapped and Sam fell. He hung upside down, fifteen feet from the floor. The cables wrapped around him were the only thing kept him from becoming a Sam pancake on the stage. 

“Help!” He cried, waving his arms around. 

“Quit flailing, Sam!” Fred stood up from behind the laundry hamper. He pointed a thumb at Sam. “I got him.” 

He disappeared behind the stage. Fred struggling to untangle Sam became white noise in the background. 

Joe sighed and sat on the edge of the stage. “Were you gonna to say that I’m a pathetic joke who’s a disgrace to the industry and should give up on magic?” 

Isadora jumped up. “N-no! I was just— I meant—” 

“Relax.” He raised his hands in defense. “I’m just kidding.” 

“Oh. Right. Of course you were.” 

She looked down, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Joe wondered why she’d reacted so flusteredly like no one ever joked with her. 

Isadora spun her earrings. It must’ve been a nervous tick. “So, you’re a Houdini fan?” 

“What gave it away?” Joe asked. 

“The Metamorphosis was one of his signature tricks. My parents used to perform it at shows. I think you _do_ need some practice with it, though.” 

“I need help. I’d love to get some pointers from my uncle, but he’s, um, out of town a lot.” 

Joe wasn’t about to tell her his Uncle Joe was a time traveling magician. That kind of thing tended to make you look crazy. 

Isadora walked towards the stage. “That stinks. My dad’s out of town, too.” 

“For a show?” 

She nodded but frowned. She didn’t look sure. 

Joe opened his mouth to speak when Fred yelled above them, “Heads up!” 

Their eyes shot up. Sam, now free from his restraints, fell towards the stage. 

“Sam!” Joe cried. 

Isadora grabbed the closest thing— Joe’s backpack— and whipped it underneath Sam. He landed on the bag with a thump and rolled over. He groaned. 

In an instant, the three of them were at his side. Joe helped him to his feet. “Sorry, Sam. Are you okay?” 

“Just peachy,” he said. He rubbed the arm he landed on and turned to Isadora. “Thanks for the quick thinking.” 

“You’re welcome,” she said. “I’m sorry I hurled your backpack, Joe. I hope nothing’s broken.” 

Sam picked up the bag. “Jeez, Joe. What do you have in here—” 

_The Book_ slipped out of the bag and hit the floor. The pages fluttered open. The familiar green mist curled from _The Book_ and surrounded the four of them. 

“—bricks?” Sam squeaked. 

Isadora waved her hand to disperse the mist. “What the heck is—” 

In an instant, the four of them warped in a flash of green light. 

~*~ 

The trio scrambled up as the woman swung the cane, missing Sam by a hair. 

“Hey!” Sam yelped. “Watch where you’re swinging that thing.” 

The woman hefted the cane over her head. “I’m tired of you good-for-nothing bums thinking you can sleep on my porch whenever you want.” 

She swung again. They dodged. Joe stepped in front of his friends. 

“We’re not bums, ma’am,” he said. “We’re actually—” 

“Say 'magicians',” Fred muttered, “and I’ll beat you myself.” 

The woman fumed. Her glare could melt the snow on the porch. She was six feet tall with blonde hair up in a bun. She wore an old fashioned blouse, high waist skirt, and a bowtie. 

She lowered her cane. Joe’s heart skipped a beat. A glowing hourglass filled with green sand sat on top of the silver cane. 

How had he not noticed _that_ before? 

His eyes shot up to the apartment address. A familiar number “twenty-six” was printed on the windowpane. This was _his_ home, a hundred years in the past, and this bloodthirsty nut must have been an ancestor of his. 

Joe pointed at the number above. “Guys! Check it out.” 

Fred and Sam gasped. “What are you boys jawing about?” the woman asked, the edge still in her voice. 

Before they could answer, a boy step hopped forward from behind her, tugging on a dress shoe. His sweater vest was untucked, his tie was askew. 

The boy smiled wide. “Bout time you three show up!” 

The boys looked at each other. 

“Us?” Fred asked. 

“Of course, you knuckle head.” The boy tied his tie. “I’ve been waiting for you guys. Mother, these are some of my buddies from work. Swell guys. We’re heading to the show together.” 

The boy’s mom squinted her eyes at the trio. The three of them smiled and tried to look swell. 

“My apologies,” she said through gritted teeth. She turned to the boy, and her eyes softened. “Eugene, be safe. I’ll expect you home by eight tonight.” 

Eugene kissed her on the cheek and grabbed a coat from the coat hanger. “I’ll tell you all about when I’m back. Come on boys, let’s walk and talk.” 

Eugene motioned for the three of them to follow and bounded down the steps, a spring in his step. The boys looked at each other. 

“Should we follow him?” Joe asked. 

A muffled rustle. The woman peeked behind the blinds and glared at them. 

Sam yelped and bolted down the steps after Eugene. “I vote yes.” 

Joe and Fred followed suit. 

Eugene weaved through the crowd as if this was a regular routine of his. The trio caught up to him as he attached a rounded collar to his shirt. 

“Thanks for the save back there, man,” Joe said. 

“You’re quite welcome,” Eugene said, “if you’ll excuse my mother.” 

Fred tugged on his hat to keep it from blowing away. “Nice lady. In a murderous sort of way.” 

“Her bark is worse than her bite,” Eugene assured them. “Besides, she's a little on edge since a certain, um, family heirloom vanished.” 

“This family heirloom wouldn’t happen to be a blue book, would it?” Joe asked. 

Eugene halted. “With silver squiggles?” 

“That’s the one.” 

“How do you know that? Are you another time traveler?” 

Joe looked at Sam and Fred. A silent conversation happened between them in a second. Joe decided to come clean and told Eugene the truth. Eugene stared at him and listened in stunned silence before he accepted Joe’s story. He surprised Joe with a bear hug and picked him up. Pedestrians gave them odd looks as Sam and Fred snickered. 

“This is outstanding!” Eugene laughed and let Joe down. “I never met a future relative before. That explains what happened to _The Book_. Ours must have warped out you three warped in.” 

“And our _Book_ is missing, too,” Joe said. 

“Which is just perfect,” Sam mumbled. 

“Hey, it’s not exactly like this trip was planned. I didn’t even know _The Book_ was in my bag.” 

It was true. Joe remembered locking _The Book_ in the box after a run in with a belligerent Bolshevik in pre-Soviet Russia (long story. Don’t ask). Did he put it in his bag before school this morning? No, he didn’t see why he would do that. Was Anna playing a practical joke? Joe doubted it. Anna could be annoying, but she was responsible with _The Book_. 

He shook his head. It didn’t matter now. They were already here, so all they could do now was to find _The Book_. Besides, it wasn’t the only thing they were missing. 

“Have you seen a girl around here, Eugene?” Joe asked. “She has pigtails, a bluish greenish shirt.” 

“Pants,” Fred added. “That might help narrow it down.” 

Eugene shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell. But maybe she’s at the Hippodrome?” 

Fred frowned, confused. “That office building where my cousin Tyler is a janitor?” 

“Why would she be there?” Joe asked. 

“Maybe she's looking for a job?” 

Joe rolled his eyes. 

“Actually,” Sam said, “the Hippodrome used to be the biggest theater in New York. It had circuses, operas. Houdini even had a show where he made an elephant completely disappear.” 

Eugene smiled. “That’s precisely where we’re going!” 

Joe choked. “W-we-we’re going to see Houdini?” 

“That’s right.” 

“And he’s going to make a whole elephant disappear?” 

“Well, half an elephant wouldn’t make much of a show now, would it?” 

Stars formed in Joe’s eyes. “Let’s go. Right now.” 

Joe started again. Fred snagged him by the hood of his jacket. “Dude, did you forget about the whole girl that _we_ made disappear?” 

He folded his arms. “No! Of course not. But there _is_ a chance she’s there.” 

Sam and Fred looked at each other like they didn’t buy it. 

Joe wasn’t trying to cover his tracks. Of course, he was excited for the chance to see Houdini’s show, but he did believe Isadora was there or at least was heading there. She was clearly a fan of Houdini, and, once she figured out what was happening, would probably take up the chance to see Houdini live, too. That is if she wasn’t in any trouble. 

Joe’s gut twisted at the thought that his _Book_ put an innocent girl he barely knew in danger. He remembered how lost and terrified he was when he first warped. He hated to think she might be going through the same thing. 

“Besides,” Joe said, “maybe Isadora has _The Book_?” 

~*~ 

Izzy fell face first in the middle road and ate a mouthful of dirty snow. She sat up and spat out snow. 

“Bleh,” she groaned. Her head pounded. “What the—” 

An old fashioned car dodged her by an inch. The driver laid on the horn as he passed. 

“—heck!” She jumped. 

Men and woman in vintage clothes scrutinized her as cars and horse-drawn carriages avoided her. The drivers shouted and gave her rude gestures. 

She shivered. “Oh, God. Is this purgatory?” 

A carriage drawn by two horses approached Izzy, but instead of moving around her, it forged straight ahead. Izzy barely noticed. She rubbed her eyes and stared at her surroundings, too stunned move. 

At the last second, the man guiding the horses pulled at the reigns and the horses stopped. 

“Imprudent simp!” The man yelled. 

Izzy frowned. “I’m not a chimp.” 

The man on the carriage wore a black and blue Venetian mask, along with a black cape and suit. A ring with a blue stone shone on his middle finger. 

_Master  Mysterio_ was painted on the side of the royal blue carriage along with a caricature of the driver. 

Izzy nodded approvingly at the artwork. “Nice paint job.” 

The man, presumably Master Mysterio, narrowed his eyes. “Jaywalking in the middle of the road. Interrupting the flow of traffic. Are you a fool?” 

“A fool?” 

A crowd formed around to watch them. They pointed at Izzy and murmured, who shivered and hugged herself. She wished she had the foresight to bring a jacket. 

“Are you aware that jaywalking is a crime?” Master Mysterio went on. “You should be arrested.” 

She quirked an eyebrow. “Arrested?” 

Out of the corner of Izzy’s eye, she noticed someone step out of a car and head towards the two of them. The man, who wore a bow tie long coat suit, was around her father’s age with graying hair parted in the middle. 

Some of the people in the crowd oohed and ahhed as he approached. Master Mysterio glowered down at him. 

“No need to cause a scene, Lauren,” the new man said. 

Izzy’s jaw went slack. “Y-y-you’re Hou—” 

“Houdini, my friend,” Mysterio said in a way that made Izzy doubt he considered him a friend. “You’re defending this delinquent?” 

Harry Houdini— _THE_ Harry Houdini— shook his head and motioned to Izzy. “Can’t you tell that she’s an immigrant by her eccentric outfit?” 

She looked down at her outfit. She wore a teal tank top over a white t-shirt and pink pants. She wondered if the colors were too bright. 

Izzy said, “Me, uh, ahoy-hoy! Wow! You’re a—what?” 

Oh, Isadora, she thought. Your eloquence is unparalleled. 

“She can’t even speak proper English yet,” Houdini said. “The poor girl simply isn’t privy to our laws yet.” 

“Ignorance of the law is not an excuse.” Mysterio snapped his fingers and pointed into the crowd.” Officer! Arrest this-this goon, post haste.” 

A chubby officer stepped forward, baton in hand. For a moment, Izzy worried that the cop would beat her. She could defend herself a little. She’d been learning Tae Kwon Do for about three months now on her father's insistence, but he also told her to always respect authorities. 

But instead, he replaced the baton with rusty handcuffs. 

Izzy squeaked and backed up. “I-I’m only fifteen! Don’t I get three strikes or a stern talking to? A pink slip?” 

Her pleas were ignored as the officer cuffed her. “Sorry, little lady. I got a quota to fill.” 

The masked man smirked. Houdini shook his head and trekked back to his car. The crowd dispersed, upset that the show was over. 

Izzy was loaded into the back of patrol car. She was greeted by twins cuffed together and a plump elderly woman. 

“Uh...” Izzy shrugged her shoulders in lieu of waving. “Hello?” 

The woman snorted and flipped around a butterfly knife. For some reason, she wasn’t handcuffed. The twins sized her up, looked at each other, and chuckled. 

The vehicle started. Izzy tripped but managed to steady herself. 

She backed up to the door and gave it a good kick. Locked. She spread her palms as best she could against the chill metal. Thin enough to slip past. “Hey, baby,” one of the guys said. “You ain’t gonna get out. Why don’t you come sit over here?” 

“No thank you, sir.” She wiggled her arms. The sharp edges of the handcuffs dug into her skin. They were thick and heavy, but breaking out would be child’s play. 

Her father often warned her about using any magic in public. People would freak out or ask too many questions, but the thought of going to jail made her stomach churn. Besides, she didn’t think that the officers at the police station would help her, let alone believe her when she told them she wasn’t from this time period, or pocket dimension, or whatever. 

Wherever she was, those guys would have to know. Izzy remembered seeing the three of them after they were sucked into that glowing green portal. They had to be here, too, but where exactly? 

She bit her lip as she tried to recall their names. She could kick herself, she was always so bad at names. She never had to remember any before today. After a moment, the names Sam and Fred came to her. She hadn't forgotten Joe’s name. 

The morning after her dad left, Izzy read and reread and rereread the letter he left her. Partially because she was dyslexic, and partially because she couldn’t believe what was going on. 

Her father told her to find the magician name Joe and she had. He was supposed to protect her while her father was away, but Joe seemed unaware of what was happening. Had her dad forgotten to inform Joe? He could be pretty forgetful. 

She needed answers, about where she was and about her father. For that, she needed to find Joe, Sam, and Fred. Izzy hoped that they were in a better situation than she was. 

But first things first, she needed to get out of the cop car. 

“Well.” She looked at her new friends. “You guys are gonna see something weird.” 

~*~ 

Lauren Anderson grinned as he headed to the Hippodrome. He considered the encounter with the “great” Harry Houdini a minor victory. For years, he’d struggled to outdo the man to no avail. While not in magic, Lauren had finally accumulated a win against him. Sending some silly girl on her way to jail was merely collateral damage. 

He handed over the reigns of his buggy to the negro valet and grabbed his heavy jacket from his side seat. Something block shaped slid from the seat and hit the ground. 

Lauren furrowed his brow. “What in God’s name...” 

A blue book decorated with silver ribbons and strange symbols stared up at him. He recognized it as that book his dimwitted assistant, Eugene Ellis, always had his nose in. Lauren figured that Eugene left it there when he made him wash the carriage yesterday. 

Eugene was quite secretive of the contents of the book and would snap it shut whenever he noticed someone around. Curious, Lauren scooped it up and headed inside. 

Lauren fought his way through the crowd. To his chagrin, the crowd was large, full of the rich, poor, and in between. Houdini never failed to drum up an audience. 

He looked at the Lapis Lazuli ring on his middle finger. He considered making it rain on this little parade, but decided against it. 

Once inside, Lauren picked a seat front and centered and flipped open the book. Blocks of text next to realistic pictures of Egyptian pyramids, medieval villages, Chinese landmarks, and other interesting historical bits flashed by as he turned the page. Eugene’s father was a historian, and his ill-tempered yet fetching mother was a teacher, so it didn’t surprise him that Eugene would also be interested in history. 

He landed on a picture of the Hippodrome with a crowd lined up to the doors. He scoffed but decided to read the text. 

_January 7th, 1918, the paragraph read. Lauren Anderson sat in seat fourteen, row A, in the Hippodrome, reading The Book—_

Lauren dropped _The Book_. It landed with a thump that was dull to his ears. He clenched his chest to keep his heart from galloping out of his ribcage. He counted backwards from ten in his head until his heart slow down. 

He ignored the strange looks he got as his shaky hands picked _The Book_ back up. He turned back to the page. 

_Lauren dropped The Book and nearly had a conniption. People looked at him funny. He didn’t notice._

An image of himself reading _The Book_ appeared underneath the text. In the image, he looked as though he was on the verge of vomiting. The image was clearer and more realistic than any picture taken with a camera. 

He snapped _The Book_ shut and tried to control his breathing. Was this some kind of past/present future telling device? What was that little brat Eugene doing with a book like this? _How_ did he get a book like this? 

Lauren twisted the ring on his finger. In all fairness, Eugene wasn’t the only one with a magical item. However, his little rain machine wasn’t quite as impressive. 

A grin spread across Lauren’s face as formulated a plan to use this to his advantage. Returning _The Book_ hadn’t crossed his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make art. Check it out if you want.
> 
> [My DeviantArt](https://cbraxs.deviantart.com)   
>  [My tumblr](https://cbraxs.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

Izzy leaned against a brick building and panted, watching her breath turn to mist in the frigid air. She’d sprinted far enough away in the opposite direction of the police wagon, attempting to lose the cop that arrested her. 

The screams of the felons still rang in Izzy’s ears. She didn’t think  her little magic show would freak them out  _that_  much. She hoped that she hadn’t scared any of them too much. 

New snow began to fall around her. Izzy was tempted to pull her arms into her shirt for warmth but didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself in case  _that_  was some kind of obscene crime, too. 

Sidewalk traffic had thinned out from earlier. No one would willingly be out in this weather unless they had too. If Joe, Sam, and Fred decided to look for shelter, finding for them wasn’t going to be as easy as bumping into them on the street. 

The majority of people still outside were all crowded in front of a huge red, castle-like building: The  Hippodrome. 

Izzy frowned. Why were all those people heading to that office building, she thought. 

“My friend!”  Harry Houdini materialized in front of her from thin air.  “Is that you?” 

Izzy jumped. “Ah! Wild Houdini!” 

Houdini looked down at her in amazement. “I saw the officer place the cuffs on you myself  not five  minutes ago. Tell me, how did you manage to escape so soon?” 

“It was  something my father taught me,” she said plainly, still not believing she was speaking to  _the_  Harry Houdini. “Never thought I’d be arrested, though. At least not for jaywalking.” 

“How did you manage?”  he asked. 

She smiled and shrugged. “Trade secret. Sorry.” 

“Truly outstanding. Your  father is an illusionist?” 

Izzy nodded. “And you’re  really  Houdini?” 

“In the flesh.” 

Wow, Izzy thought. He was really Harry Houdini. How was this possible? She  tried to think of the right words to perfectly convey how excited and in awe she was to meet him. 

“Wow.” 

Nailed it. 

“Bess and  I  are  on the way to my show,” Houdini said. “Would you  care  to come along?” 

“Is that rhetorical?” 

The chance to see Houdini live and in person? Who would say no to that? Besides, something told her that Joe would gravitate towards there, too, and she could kill two birds with one stone. It looked like her luck was turning around. 

Houdini beamed. He  placed a hand on her shoulder  and steered  her to the nineteen-hundreds version of a limo. “Excellent. Come now. Bess  will want to meet you.”    

~*~       

Joe never gave the Hippodrome a second glance whenever he drove past it on the way to his dentist visits. He never thought of its history. It was nothing special, just one of hundreds of offices in New York City. 

But as the four of them waited in line to buy tickets, he saw a genuine towering theater, with bright red brick walls and flags. It reminded him of a castle— and he’s seen plenty of castles. It wasn’t Madison Square Garden, but it was nothing to scoff at. 

The snow was getting heavier. Joe raised the hood of his hoodie over his head and shoved his hands into the pocket. Fred stuck his tongue out, trying to catch falling snowdrops. Sam was cleaning his glasses every ten seconds whenever they’d fog up or get covered in water droplets from the snow. 

Eugene seemed to be the only one unaffected by the cold. He bounced on his heel, his grin unwavering. Joe wondered if he was always this enthusiastic. 

“So,” Joe said to him, “you said you were a magician’s assistant? That pretty cool.” 

Eugene’s smile faltered. “To be honest, I thought it would be fun at first. My boss, while amazing and incredible, is not particularly the nicest of men. He hates it when I watch other magician’s shows unless I’m there to steal their secrets.” 

Joe raised an eyebrow at that. “Is that why you’re here?” 

Eugene’s face paled. “Gosh, no! I could never do that to Houdini. That’s why I told my boss I was sick today.” 

Joe and Eugene talked magic for the next ten minutes, with Sam and Fred jumping in every now and then to crack a joke until the four of them reached the ticket seller. 

A woman  with her hair in a tight bun  slouched in her seat behind the glass. She assessed them with drooping eyes. “Three dollars.” 

Joe gulped as Eugene paid the teller. “Um, we have  to pay?” 

“Relax,”  Fred said. “I have  three dollars. Probably. I can pay for all of us.” 

Sam glanced  between them and the woman.  “Fred, you have modern money. I think she’ll notice.” 

The woman cleared her throat. “Problem, boys?” 

“Not at all.” Fred fished out a couple of dollars and  slammed  them on the counter. “Three tickets, please.” 

The woman looked at the bills  then back at Fred before snatching them up and examining them.  “Seriously. Counterfeits? You didn’t even get the design right.” 

She tore them in half. 

“Hey!”  Fred protested. 

“Next!” 

A large woman elbowed the four of them out of the way.  When they complained, the woman shot them a death glare, and that was the end of that. 

“Great!”  Sam said as they regrouped by the side of the building.  “How are we supposed to get in now?” 

“Sneak in, Ninja-Style?” Fred suggested. 

Eugene raised his finger to interject. “Or we could  ask nicely.” 

They just  gave him a look. 

Eugene  smiled innocently.  “The worst that they can say is ‘no’.”     

~*~     

“No.” 

The usher that they’d asked nicely to get in was ten feet even and looked like he could bench press all four of them with one arm. 

“Please, sir,”  Eugene  said.  “My friends had money but that disagreeable woman destroyed it.” 

The usher grunted and spat on the sidewalk. “Kid, did I stutter? You ain’t getting in without a ticket.” 

Joe puffed out his chest and stepped  forward. “How about I bargain with you, my good man?”  He pulled out the deck of cards from his pocket, ignoring the groans from Sam and Fred.  “I’ll preform  a  magic  trick for you, and if you’re impressed, you  let  us  in.” 

The  usher bellowed a laugh.  “Kid, I’ve  seen Harry  Houdini  himself make an entire elephant go up in smoke. Your little parlor tricks can’t top that.” 

Joe shrunk back at the comment, thinking back to his horrendous talent show tryout.  His ears warmed in embarrassment despite himself. 

He crossed his arms and looked down at them, unfazed. “Now why don’t you boys run along and—” 

“Joe!”  A familiar  voice shouted, surprised.  “Fred! Sam! Um, other guy?” 

A flash of familiar pigtails bounced toward the usher. Isadora popped up from behind him, her face a mix of excitement and confusion. “I’m so glad you guys are here.” 

The usher frowned at her and jabbed a thumb at the four of them. “You know these goops?” 

“Hey!” Sam complained. “We resent that.” 

“Yeah!” Fred said. “We’re not... whatever that means.” 

“These goops are my friends,” Isadora said. “Could you let them in, Frank? I really, really gotta talk to them.” 

Frank  shook his head.  “I don’t know.” 

“Please, Frank? Pretty please?” 

He  rubbed his chin. 

“Pretty  _pretty_  please?” 

Isadora gave  him big  puppy dog  eyes. Anyone with a soul  would have  caved in. 

Frank sighed.  “All right, all right.”  He moved aside to let them pass.  “This is your lucky day, buckos. Don’t give me a reason to throw you out.”   

Isadora thanked him and led the four of them into the crowded lobby. They gathered aside near a poster covered wall to keep them from getting swarmed. 

“Thanks,  Isadora,”  Joe said. 

Fred punched her lightly in the shoulder. “Yeah. We owe you one. I’m pretty sure tall, dark, and scary back there would have stomped us if we stayed out there any longer.” 

“Is this the girl you lost?” Eugene asked. 

Joe scratched the back of his head. “ _Lost_  isn’t the nicest word—” 

“No,” Sam said, “but accurate.” 

Joe shot him a look. 

Eugene stepped forward and held out his hand. “Eugene Ellis. Pleasure meeting you.” 

Isadora shook his hand to introduce herself, and Joe noticed faint marks around her wrist, like bruises. He hadn’t noticed them there before. Were they new? 

“Hey, are you alright?”  he asked, pointing to her wrist. 

She frowned before realizing what he meant. She redrew her arms and rubbed her wrist. “It’s fine. Well, not really. I was arrested, but it probably worked itself out.” 

Fred raised an eyebrow.  “ _You_   were arrested?” 

“And what do you mean ‘it probably worked itself out?’” Sam asked. 

She shook her head.  “Tell you guys later.” 

Before Joe could ask for any more details, Izzy motioned for the four of them to follow her. She led them through the lobby and into the theater. 

The theater was massive. It was five times the size of the theater at school; five thousand seats all curved around a circus-sized stage. Empty seats were few and far in between. The four of them followed Isadora towards the front rows. 

She turned to face the four of them. “So, what’s the deal? Are we dead?” 

“We’re not dead—” 

“Yet,” Sam muttered. 

Joe rolled his eyes.  “We’re actually in the past if you can believe  it, but while we’re on the subject, did you happen to see a blue book with stars and moons on it?” 

She cocked her head, confused.  “No. Why?” 

Fred, Sam, and Eugene groaned behind him. 

“It’s the reason why we’re here,”  Joe said.  “Long story short, that book, _The Book_ is a time machine.” 

“Time travel!” Isadora smacked herself on the forehead. “That was my second guess.” 

“What was your first guess?” 

“A purgatory dimension.” 

“You seemed to be taking this magic stuff pretty easily.” 

Isadora stiffened before quickly forcing a smile. “Well it’s, uh, not that farfetched after you’ve experienced it firsthand, you know?” 

Joe was about to question her when she stopped next to a row of seats and waved for them to sit. They filed in after her, Joe and Eugene followed by Fred and Sam. The seats were perfectly centered in front of the stage. Close to the front but not too close. 

“How’d you score these seats?”  Fred asked, impressed. 

“Yeah, did Drago back there win them for you in a punching contest?” Joe asked. 

Isadora snickered. “You mean Frank Beaner? Houdini introduced us. He’s usually the usher here and they’re friendly with—” 

Joe held up a hand. “Hold on. You met Houdini?” 

“ _The_  Houdini?” Eugene asked. 

She nodded, smiling wide. 

Joe and Eugene asked her questions simultaneously, their mouths going a mile a minute. Isadora leaned away like she was overwhelmed by their attention. 

“The geek level is rising,” Fred whispered to Sam, then added, “Whoops. Sorry. Look who I’m talking to.” 

Sam glared at him, then cut it. “How about you two let her breath so she can answer?” 

Joe rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about that.” 

“Sooo,” Eugene said trying to sound casual. “What’s he like?” 

“He’s the best,” Isadora said. “He—” 

A hush fell over the audience as Houdini walked onto the stages, followed by twelve buff guys pushing a huge crate. 

The show had  begun.   

~*~   

This book was absolutely astounding. 

Lauren barely noticed the performance going on before him. His attention was completely taken by  _The Book_. Every past event was described in vivid detail and the future with complete certainty. He’d tested it out on the actions of the patrons around him. _The Book_ described their every move to the letter. 

He discovered a page full of life details of himself— things no one could possibly have known about him— and of the people he knew. All he had to do was think their name and he found their page with ease. 

Lauren was so absorbed that it didn’t even matter when he missed Houdini reveal that the elephant had disappeared. The thunderous applause of the audience didn’t break his focus. He’d found his big-ticket item, the thing that would make his name live down in history.   

~*~   

Houdini was a true showman. Izzy’s seen many other magicians before, but few could compare to the charisma and theatrical presence that Houdini had on stage. He talked and made jokes to the audience as he walked them through each step of the trick. He was so magnetic that Izzy doubted that anyone would be able to look away from him. 

The five of them stood with the crowd, giving Houdini a standing ovation. 

“How the heck did he do that?”  Fred shouted over the crowd. 

Joe grinned from ear to ear.  “No one knows for sure. No one ever figured out how exactly he did it.” 

Houdini bowed one final time before disappearing behind the curtain. The crowd began to thin out, buzzing excitedly about the show. 

Sam leaned forward to look at all found of them. “That was fun, but now what? We still need to find  _The Book_.” 

“He’s right,” Joe said. “We need to start looking for it.” 

Izzy looked down at her lap. “Um...” 

“What’s wrong?” Fred asked her. 

“It’s just that Houdini’s was expecting me to go backstage after the show. I should at least say goodbye or something.” 

Joe and Eugene glanced at each other. The two of them practically jumped from their seats. 

Eugene grabbed Izzy by the hands and guided her up. “Well, it would be rude of you to leave without saying goodbye.” 

“And we should escort her there, right guys?” Joe asked Sam and Fred. 

Sam crossed his arms. “ _Riiight_. How chivalrous of you.” 

Fred stood. “How could we refuse, when it’s three to two?” 

Eugene smiled and took off with Izzy down the aisle. “Glad to see we’re all in agreement.” 

~*~    

Once backstage, Izzy introduced them. “Mr. And Mrs. Houdini. These are the friends I was telling you about.” She stated their names, motioning to each of them. 

Houdini smiled genuinely and shook each of their hands. “Hello, boys.  Did you enjoy  the show?” 

Despite Joe’s fanboying earlier, he controlled himself when meeting Houdini. Izzy had no idea how he was able to keep his cool when she was a stuttery, awkward mess, but she suspected that on the inside he felt the same as she did. 

Eugene was the opposite. Izzy figured that this was like meeting a rock star for him, even though rock stars didn’t exist yet. He shook Houdini’s hand energetically, proclaiming to be his biggest fan about twenty or thirty times. 

“This is getting old,” Sam muttered. 

Fred nudged him. “Like you wouldn’t react the same if you met Einstein.” 

Sam opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, then glared Fred, annoyed. “Touché.” 

Mrs. Houdini, a pretty, dark-haired woman, smiled at them. “Would you children like to join us for dinner?” 

Eugene, unsurprisingly, said yes. 

“Actually, ma’am,” Joe said. “We should actually discuss it. Could you give a second?” 

Joe, Sam, and Fred huddled off to the side while Izzy and Eugene stayed behind. Izzy stood there between the three of them as Eugene excitedly chatting with the Houdini’s. She felt like a deer in headlights, unsure of where to go. 

Thankfully, Joe motioned for her to join their discussion. Relieved, she went over, catching the tail end of Fred’s sentence. 

“...vote we go. I haven’t eaten since lunch. I’m starving.” 

“When are you not starving?” Sam asked. “Besides, we still need to find _The Book_ before we catch the Spanish Flu.” 

“You got your shots.” 

“Relax, Sam,” Joe said. ”We found Isadora, and no one’s trying to kill us.” 

“Can’t help but feel like you jinxed us right now,” Sam said. 

“We’ll be fine. Let’s  enjoy  something cool  happening to us on one of our accidental warps for once.” 

“Does this happen to you guys often?” Izzy asked. 

Joe waved away her question. “It’s not as bad as it used to be.” 

“Again,” Sam interjected, “you’re jinxing us.” 

Fred clasped his hands dramatically in a pleading gesture. “C’mon, Sam.” 

Sam looked at the three them and sighed. “Alright. But if we die, I’m blaming all three of you.” 

 ~*~   

They rode with Mr. and Mrs. Houdini in their limo, Eugene with them in the middle row and Izzy and the boys squished into the backseat. After asking the Houdinis if they’ve seen Joe’s book (unfortunately they hadn’t), Houdini talked about his love  of aviation and his upcoming movie deals. 

“The man can’t stay still,” Mrs. Houdini said. “I keep telling him that he’ll work himself to death.” 

They talked until they arrived at their home in Flatbush. Izzy’s seen the outside of Houdini’s famous brownstone in Harlem with her parents when she was little but wasn’t sure what this place was. 

Houdini explained that they lived with his brother, Theodore Hardeen, his wife, and their two sons (who were on holiday in England at the moment) but him and Bess were considering moving back to their old home soon. 

Joe grimaced. “Must be rough having to live with your sibling.” 

“Admittedly, yes,” Houdini said with a sigh, “but you do what you can for family. Theodore was kind enough to open his home to us.” Mrs. Houdini glanced at him with a look Izzy couldn’t decipher, but if she wanted to say anything, she didn’t. She went off to the kitchen to prepare dinner while Houdini and their fox terrier, Bobby, gave the five of them a little tour of their home. 

The living room and den were cluttered with magical memorabilia, dozens of odd novelties Izzy both did and didn’t recognize. Houdini motioned to his favorites, telling them a shortened version of the item’s backstory. 

“Is this an electric chair?” Fred pointed to an odd-looking chair with straps.  

“The very first one,” Houdini said proudly. 

Sam frowned and scrutinized the chair skeptically. “The first one?” 

“Does it still work,” Izzy asked. 

Houdini simply winked at her. 

Meanwhile, Joe was marveling at a large metal canister. “Whoa! Was this the can you use to do your famous milk can escape?” 

“The very one,” Houdini replied. 

“And was this the straitjacket you escaped from?” 

“Indeed. You sound like a fan of my work.” 

“Am I ever! I watched every documentary and read every book about you.” 

Eugene nudged him in the arm. 

“I mean, if any books or documentaries existed I did,” Joe said sheepishly, rubbing his arm. 

“Joe’s a magician,” Izzy said when Houdini gave him a baffled look, hoping to distract him. 

Houdini’s face flipped from befuddled to intrigued. “Really, boy? You, too?” 

Joe stumbled over his words, saying that he was an amateur, nowhere near as good as Houdini was. 

Houdini rubbed his chin in thought, glancing between Izzy and Joe. “Follow me, children.” He heel-turned and headed into the den, Bobby the dog trailing behind him. The five of them followed. 

Houdini was rummaging through a drawer before he pulled out a kind of dual-sided handcuffs meant for two people. Before Izzy could ask any questions, Houdini shackled her and Joe together. 

“Uhhh...” Joe said. 

Izzy stared down at their cuffed hands, a frown forming on her face. “Sir, I’m not arrested again, am I?” 

Houdini laughed. “A simple challenge. I’m curious to see how you two can work together.” 

Joe grinned sheepishly at Izzy. “At least he didn’t lock us in a box and throw us in the ocean.” 

“What?” Fred said in disbelief. “You did stunts like that?  How is that magic?” 

“Actually, Fred,” Sam said. “Houdini was more known for his death-defying stunts than his illusions.” 

Fred nodded. “Neat.” 

“The magic,”  Houdini said,  “comes from the mystery.”    

Izzy tugged at the restraints experimentally. They were thicker than the handcuffs the cops put on her, and a little tighter. 

Izzy was, well, Izzy was no Houdini. She knew Houdini would either wiggle or pick his way out of cuffs, but she didn’t have the first clue on as to how to do that. She knew real magic and a couple of tricks, but escape artistry was foreign to her. 

Joe yanked on the cuffs a little too hard, making Izzy stumble into him. He smiled apologetically at her and helped her right herself. 

“This is impossible,” she said. 

Houdini waved off her concern. “Nonsense. It’s so easy, a dog can do it.” 

On cue, he clamped tiny handcuffs on Bobby’s forelegs. After a half minute of wiggling, the dog escaped, happily barking and wagging his tail. 

The five of them gaped down at the dog in amazement. 

“Okay,” Joe said, “but that’s one person—dog—whatever. How are we _both_ supposed to get out?” 

Houdini opened his mouth, probably say something vague and inspirational, when Mrs. Houdini called for his help from the kitchen. Houdini excused himself, followed by Eugene who eagerly offered to help. 

“Well, good luck you two,” Fred said to Joe and Izzy. “Come on, Sam. Let’s check out that electric chair.” 

Sam looked at him cautiously before saying, “Fine, but you’re not putting me in it!” 

“Deal!” 

As the two left, Izzy caught Fred crossing his fingers behind his back. 

That left her and Joe alone together. The two of them tried twisting out but stopped when it was clear it wasn’t going to work. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have any disinfecting lotion on you?” Joe asked. 

“Can’t say I do,” Izzy said. “Sorry.” 

They locked eyes for a second longer than what was comfortable. Probably. Izzy had no gauge for that. 

“So,” she said, attempting to break the awkward silence, “how’d you get your hands on a time-traveling book?” 

Joe explained to her that his uncle gave him  _The Book_  on his tenth birthday. He, Sam, and Fred accidentally warped themselves three hundred years in the past, were almost killed by Black Beard the pirate, got arrested and sentenced to death, and were almost killed by Black Beard  _again_  right as they found  _The Book_  and warped away. 

Izzy gaped at the story. “That was some birthday.” 

“Tell me about it,” Joe said. 

“So, are you guys always almost dying?” 

“Um, define ‘always’?” 

For whatever reason Izzy didn’t find that reassuring. Hopefully, this little adventure didn’t go beyond getting arrested. 

“Got any idea how we’re getting out of this?” Joe asked, nodding his head at their cuffs. 

Izzy bit her lip in thought. “I do, but you gotta close your eyes.” 

Joe frowned at her, clearly confused. “Why? What are you going to do?” 

“Magic,” she said plainly, “but normies aren’t allowed to see. It’s against the rules.” 

Joe looked at her oddly, trying to figure out if she was serious or not. She kept her face neutral, not giving anything away. After a moment, he seemed to have decided to trust her and closed his eyes. 

Izzy took a deep breath and concentrated, muttering the magic words under her breath. Green light began to glow around their wrists, enveloping the handcuffs. Izzy phased her wrist through the confines, then did the same for Joe, making sure that he kept his eyes closed. 

“Okay.” She smiled. “Open your eyes.” 

He did, slowly at first, then shooting open wide when he noticed the handcuffs in her hand, the glowing now gone. 

“No way,” he breathed. “I didn’t feel a thing. How’d you do that?” 

“I can’t just tell you my secrets. You tell me how you think I did it.” 

Izzy wondered, briefly, if that was an unfair question. It was just something her dad used to tell members of his audiences after shows and she thought it sounded pretty good. Sure, Joe owned a magic time traveling book, but she had no clue if he knew about other sorts of magic. 

The extent of Joe’s magic seemed to be limited to simple tricks and illusions. Was that why her father referred to him as a magician instead of a wizard in his note? Izzy had no clue how a teenage magician was supposed to protect her, at least any more than she was already capable of. 

Izzy thought that now was a good a time as ever to mention the code phrase that her father told her would identify the “Magician called Joe”. If this was really the guy her dad wanted her to find then maybe he could tell her what was going on. 

She was about to say the word when Eugene appeared in the room, beaming. “Dinner is served!” 

A loud electrical _pop_ , followed by Sam’s scream shot through the house. 

“My bad, dude,” Fred said from the next room. 

“It _is_ your bad!” Sam shouted.   

~*~   

Joe tried to not laugh at Sam’s frizzy hair at the table while they all ate dinner. With the exception of an accidental chortle, he thought he did pretty well. 

Sam—who was currently glaring in Joe’s direction—probably would’ve disagreed. 

They were in the middle of their chicken paprika and vegetable hash when there was a knock on the door. 

“ _The Book_  can’t knock, right?” Isadora said when Mrs. Bess went to get the door. 

Sam gave her a strange look. “You’re joking, right?” 

Isadora tilted her head, confused. “No.” 

Mrs. Bess returned, a tight smile on her face. “Looks like we have a guest, dear.” 

A man wearing a cape and a blue mask followed in behind her. 

Isadora choked on her glass of water. Joe smacked her on the back. 

“It’s him,” she said in between coughs. 

Joe furrowed his brow, unsure by what she meant. 

Houdini forced a smile and was about to greet the new guest when Eugene shot up, bumping into the table. “Master Mysterio, sir! What a pleasant surprise to see you here. At Houdini’s house. Today. Right now.” 

The man— Master Mysterio— smiled, but his eyes showed no friendliness in them. “Eugene. You seem quite cozy here. Should I worry?” 

“Everything’s Jake, sir.” 

Fred leaned over to Sam and muttered, “Who the heck is Jake?” 

Sam shook his head. 

“Is it?” Master Mysterio went on. “I thought you were sick. Or are you dishonest on top of incompetent?” 

Eugene’s face flushed as he stammered apologies. 

“Perhaps I need to terminate you from your employment under me if you’re so much happier here?” 

“Hey!” Isadora snapped. She stood up and got in between Master Mysterio and Eugene. “Back off. You’re upset. He gets.” 

For a second, Master Mysterio’s eyes blazed with rage at her; Joe was afraid he was going smack her. If Isadora noticed the furious look, she was unperturbed by it. She stood her ground, shooting daggers right back at him. 

Master Mysterio’s angry expression melted into cool indifference. “Disregarding why you’re not still locked up for the crime of jaywalking—” 

“Hold on,” Joe cut in. “ _That’s_ why you were arrested? Sure you didn’t do anything worse, like scratch your butt in public or show your ankles?” 

“What a degenerate,” Sam said with a smirk. 

Fred snorted a laugh. “If that’s all it takes, then I should be getting five to life.” 

Master Mysterio rolled sighed exasperatedly. “Girl, you and your friends need to stay out of this, or—” 

“Or what?" Isadora said. “You’ll have me arrested again? Why stop there? Why don’t you have  the cops cart away all eight of us?” 

Eugene frowned. “Eight?” 

“I’m counting Bobby.” 

Mysterio looked like he wanted to throttle everyone in the room but didn’t know who to start with. Thankfully, Houdini stepped in to disperse the argument. He smiled brightly and wrapped a friendly arm around Master Mysterio’s shoulders. Mysterio cringed, repulsed. 

“Come now,” Houdini said. “They’re simply children. No need for the animosity. Bess, get Lauren here a plate.” 

Joe quirked an eyebrow. “Did he just call you Lauren?” 

“And what of it?” Mysterio asked flippantly. 

Joe, Sam, Fred looked at each other for a moment before cracking up. The rest of them looked at the trio, slightly confused. 

“Are you three  _mad_?” Master Lauren said, his voice tight in an attempt to mask his anger. 

“I would be if my name was  _Lauren_ ,” Fred said between laughs. 

Even Izzy chuckled at that. 

Master Lauren sighed and reached into his pocket. “The reason I came by, Houdini, was not to be mocked by these four miscreants, but to personally invite you to my show.” 

He handed Houdini a flyer decorated in blue and black. Joe couldn’t see the front, but it must have been interesting. Houdini’s mouth twitched like he was suppressing a smile.  

“A séance?” he asked in disbelief. 

“I know you’ve been skeptical in the past,” said Master Lauren, “but I assure you that this is one hundred percent genuine. I’d be more than honored if you would come. And you’re welcome to bring your new... friends.” 

His eyes drifted disdainfully over everyone before he turned on his heel and left, the front door shutting closed behind him. 

At that moment, Mrs. Bess returned to the room with a plate of food. She looked around for a second before glaring at the spot where Master Lauren once stood. “He must have been it quite a rush.” 

Isadora turned to Eugene, annoyance still etched in her face. “So, you work for that jerk?” 

Eugene looked down, embarrassed. “Yes.” 

“You shouldn’t have to. You’re better than that.” 

Before he could respond, Isadora returned to the kitchen, offering to help Mrs. Bess put away the food and clean the dishes. Eugene stared down at the floor, his eyes distant. 

Houdini placed the flyer on the table. “A séance,” he said, his tone condescending. “Nonsense. I bet I could figure out Lauren’s tired tricks in no time. However, I suppose it’ll still be amusing to watch.” 

“You don’t believe in ghost?” Fred asked in between bites of food. Sam rolled his eyes. 

“You just can’t be too trusting of a spiritualist, I’m afraid.” 

And he left it at that. 

They all decided to help Isadora and Mrs. Bess in the kitchen. Once done, the five of them decided to set out to the city in search of  _The Book_. They looked through the New York Public Library, some local stores, and even asked a few people on the street if they happened to see it, many of whom gave them odd looks. 

The sun was setting and the street lights were turning on. Remembering his mother’s words, Eugene had to return home but promised to help them look tomorrow after work. 

Thankfully, Houdini offered to let them crash with them. The boys got the living room while Isadora got the smaller den. Joe figured she got the better deal since she was farther away from Sam’s brain-rattling snoring. 

Joe stared up at the ceiling, his lids heavy. Every time they’d close and sleep was just about to take hold, he’d be jolted awake by a snort. 

Frustrated, Joe threw off his blanket and headed to the kitchen, stopping in surprise when he saw Isadora there. She was staring down at the flyer Houdini got earlier and fidgeting with something in her hands. The top of the flyer where Mysterio’s name had been was torn off. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asked. 

She jumped, dropping something out of her hands. Joe stared at it for a moment before realizing it was a paper star. 

Isadora placed a hand over her chest. “You scared me.” 

“I could tell.” He pulled out the chair next to her, spun it around, and sat on it backward. He picked up the paper star. “This is pretty cool.” 

She smiled a little. “Thanks. I always end up making them when I’m tired or nervous. My mom taught me.” 

Joe nodded, admiring the star for a second before putting it back down and grabbing one of Mrs. Bess’s cookies. 

Isadora’s smile faded. “What if we don’t find  _The Book_?” 

Joe was caught off guard by her question. “Don’t worry. It hasn’t happened to us before.” 

“Do you lose  _The Book_  often?” 

Briefly, Joe considered lying to put her at ease but decided against it. “Honestly? Yeah.” 

She nodded again, her brow set in confusion and fear. She twisted her earring and forced a smile. “Well, you guys are still here, so I guess it can’t be all bad.” 

They sat in silence for a moment while Joe polished off his cookie. He propped his arms on the top rail of the chair, resting his chin on his arms. “You said your dad’s out of town doing a show, right?” 

Isadora’s shoulders moved like she was startled by the question. “Oh. Yeah. Uh huh.” 

Joe wiped crumbs off of his shirt. “Is he touring or is it just one show? I’ve seen his stuff online, but always wanted to see one of his shows in person. Well, I have, but I was like four when I went with my uncle, and I don’t remember much so I don’t count it.” 

Joe bit his lip to shut himself up. Sometimes even he noticed that he talked too much. 

But Isadora didn’t seem to notice or be bothered by it. “I wouldn’t mind getting you tickets when he comes back. He lets me have a couple if I want to go with friends.” 

“That’s awesome. Does he let you do that a lot?” 

She shrugged. “Yeah. Do you still have your cards?” 

He blinked, surprised by the change of topic. “Oh, sure. Here, Isadora.” He reached into his jeans pocket and produced the cards. 

“Izzy.” 

Joe wasn’t sure if he heard her correctly. “Huh?” 

“You can just call me Izzy if you want. It cuts the syllables in half.” 

The two of them stayed up, playing card games and talking until at one point they both fell asleep at the table together. In the morning, Mrs. Bess made them breakfast but wasn’t going to the show with them. She had less than favorable things to say about Mysterio. 

The Houdini’s chauffeur dropped them off in front of a theatre on the edge of Manhattan. Gray clouds hid the sun. The crowd was nowhere as large as yesterday, with about twenty or thirty people lined up in the frigid cold in front. Houdini displayed the remainder of his flyer as their joint ticket to the teller before making his way inside, the four of them in tow. 

The theater was dimly lit with a slight chill in the air carried in with them from outside. The scent of musk wafted through the air. Patrons sat in clumps, away from other theatergoers, unlike the day before where the theater was so stuffed, many had to stand in the isles. 

Joe, Sam, Fred, Izzy, and Houdini all gathered in the front row before a stage not even as big as the one at school. A stool and a table draped in a dark blue cover were the only things standing in front of pitch black curtains. 

The curtains jerked open, followed by a surprised squeak Joe suspected was from Eugene. The curtains peeled back to reveal Mysterio. He glided forward, his large, billowing cape obscuring most of his body. 

He crossed in front of the table and gestured overdramatically with one hand. “Mediums. Spiritualist. Necromancers. All claim to communicate with the dead. All claim to be endowed with natural, incredible gifts, but all are wrong.” 

Mysterio glided along the stage like a shark in water. He spoke as if he were addressing everyone individually. He locked eyes with Joe for a split second before moving on. Needles pricked at the back of Joe’s neck. Sam, Fred, and Izzy looked like they felt something similar, their faces screwed up like they just ate something sour. 

“I am here to tell all of you today, that every single one of them relies on tricks, deceit, and misdirection. Many use smoke, mirrors, or simple sleight of hand to achieve this goal. But not I. Of that, I can assure you.” 

Next to Joe, Houdini chuckled derisively under his breath. Joe recalled Sam telling him last night, that Houdini was known for debunking spiritualist in his day (something Joe, admittedly, wasn’t too knowledgeable of). 

“Through intense training I mustn’t share with you at this present moment, I taught myself how to become a conduit for the other side. The souls of the dead can communicate with living directly through me.” 

Sam crossed his arms, a skeptical look on his face. Fred looked at the rest of them and not so subtly made the cuckoo sign. Izzy chuckled. 

But Joe noticed that the rest of the audience was feeding into Mysterio’s speech, silently eating up his every word. 

Mysterio grinned widely. “So! Do we have a volunteer in the audience for this demonstration?” 

Several hands in the crowd shot up around them. Mysterio appraised them curiously, before dramatically pointing at Izzy. “You, my dear!” 

Izzy laughed in disbelief. “Me?” 

“Yes, girl.” 

“For real?” 

Mysterio nodded, irritation briefly touching his eyes. 

She chuckled. “Okay, then.” 

Joe gently tugged on her sleeve as Izzy went to stand. “Um, you sure you want to go up there? He seems…” 

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about this didn’t feel right. He already distrusted the man, and given the fact that he tried to have her arrested for the severe crime of jaywalking, Joe suspected that his motivation was less than kind. 

Mysterio grimaced and jerked his head slightly before smiling again. “Come on, ladies and gentleman. Let’s give this young woman some encouragement!” 

The crowd began to cheer excitedly, nearly masking the sudden boom of thunder from outside. Eugene rushed from behind the stage like a frightened squirrel to help guide Izzy onto the stage. 

A drop of liquid hit Joe in the face from what was probably a leak in the roof. 

Sam glared up at Mysterio. “I really don’t like where this is going.” 

“Yeah,” Fred agreed. “Lauren’s up to something.”   

~*~   

Izzy wasn’t nearly as worried as the boys looked to be. She was doubtful that this was legitimate. From what she remembered about Houdini and spiritualist, he managed to debunk every single one he encountered. Plus, she didn’t think he’d be able to contact the ghost of a woman who wasn’t even born yet. 

Poor Eugene looked more than just flustered. He looked... remorseful? She didn’t have time to ask him what was wrong before she was guided to the table and he disappeared behind the stage. 

Master Mysterio sat on the only stool and gazed up at her with uncaring eyes. He held out his hands. “Your hands, my dear.” 

Izzy complied. His hands were cold even through his gloves. 

Mysterio closed his eyes. A few seconds passed before he said, “I sense a spirit in our presence. Spirit, if you are the ghost of this girl’s deceased relative, give  us a sign.” 

Nothing for a moment, then— 

_Knock knock knock._

Izzy rolled her eyes. Predictable and easily faked. It could’ve been his foot under the table or even Eugene could have— 

“Yes,” Mysterio said. “I see a woman. Long hair. A dot-head.” 

Some chuckles from the audience. 

Izzy stiffened. “Excuse me?” 

“A mother.  _Your_  mother, my dear.” 

She shifted on her feet uncomfortably. “Lucky guess.” 

“Dulari?  Dulari  Shabazz.” 

Izzy’s heart sank. “How did you—” 

“She’s saying... She’s giving me a message to you.  Something important.” 

“T-that’s fine. No need to—” 

“Dulari Shabazz. I grant you permission to enter my body.” 

Suddenly, Mysterio went completely still. He convulsed, eyes rolling back into his head. He clutched harder onto Izzy’s hands, making her wince. 

“Hey!” She protested. “Let me go—” 

Just as suddenly as before, he went completely still. His eyes softened and looked into Izzy’s with more warmth than she thought he was capable of. “Isadora? Malpua?” 

Izzy jumped back, wrenching her hands from him for good. It felt as if a golf ball had found its way into her throat.  “No.” 

“It’s me, Malpua. It’s Mama.” 

He tried to cup her face but she backed away. 

“C-cut that out.” 

“I need to tell you...” Mysterio stood up jerkily and went around the table. He gripped Izzy’s shoulders and stared her down. She felt too stunned to move or look away. 

He leaned towards her ear and spoke softly, but loudly enough for the audience to hear some of his words. “Don’t trust the madman with the monocle. He is dangerous, Malpua. You see him, you run. Anywhere. Any  _when_. And you don’t ever,  _ever_  let him get you. Ever.” 

With the last sentence, Izzy managed to muster up the courage to get out of his grasp. She pushed him away but tripped over her feet and fell backward onto her rear. She stared up fearfully at Mysterio, who towered over her. 

How did he know that, Izzy thought. Her thoughts went rampant and wild. How could he have possibly known that when she herself barely could recall her mother’s exact words? She tried to remember when her mom told her that, but the memory was old and had faded with time. Snippets of a trip to the mall, a mysterious man, and her mother’s horrified face flashed in her mind, none staying long enough for her to get a good look at them. 

That day had been something that always bothered her in the back of her head. After that day, her mother never brought it up again and her parents always froze up whenever she mentioned it. They never answered her. It was one thing on a list of things they never told her about. 

Was Mysterio the man her mother was warning her about? No, he didn’t have a monocle, and something told her that the man her mother was terrified of would try to do more harm to her than get her arrested for a misdemeanor. 

Izzy was so caught up in barely noticed when Mysterio stepped in front of her, waving his arm above  his head in a flourish. “Take note of the girl’s reaction,” he shouted at the audience, apparently himself again. “It’s it not genuine? Have I convinced you yet of my authenticity?” 

The audience applauded, many giving him a standing ovation. 

Izzy looked up to see Joe, Sam, Fred, and Houdini gazing at her with a mixture of confusion and horror. She felt exposed and ashamed by her reaction. A jolt of embarrassment ran through her. 

She jumped off the stage and ran outside into the freezing rain, pretending to not hear the boys call after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make art. Check it out if you want.
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> [My DeviantArt](https://cbraxs.deviantart.com)
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> [My tumblr](https://cbraxs.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

As Izzy ran out the theatre, Fred charged up to the stage. “Hey, man! You went too far!” 

Mysterio sneered down at him. “I did no such thing, _boy_. All _I_ did was relay information. How she handled it is her own business.” 

Joe and Sam stood with Fred. Joe couldn’t image what Mysterio could’ve said to Izzy that made her freak out so much. Fake mediums— and Mysterio definitely was one— relied on vague details anyone could relate to in order to convince an audience of their abilities. No, what he said to her had to be something specific, otherwise, she wouldn’t have reacted like, like _that_. 

“What did you say to her?” 

The corners of Mysterio’s lips twitched, eager to form an arrogant smirk. “Ask her yourself after my security throws you all out.” 

“Uh, say what now?” 

Fred crossed his arms. “Yeah, right. We’re not leaving here without some answers, _Lauren_.” 

“Gentlemen. Escort these three ruffians out! They are no longer welcomed to breath my air.” 

Mysterio snapped his fingers. Two big burly men with batons approached the three of them from the sides of the stage. They brandished their weapons and glowered at them. 

Sam smiled nervously and backed up, his hands raised in front of him defensively. “You know what? This isn’t really necessary. W-we can escort ourselves out.” 

Mysterio grinned without an ounce of kindness. “Oh, but I insist.” 

Houdini—who’d been observing their situation—stood. “Lauren, please reconsider. My friends—” 

“I suggest you follow your _friends_ out the door, Houdini.” Mysterio’s voice lowered to a deadly octave. “I would hate for you to be thrown out, as well.” 

Houdini clenched his fist. 

Mysterio spun back to his stool, his oversized cape flowing and revealing his body for the first time. Joe caught a glimpse of something blue and box-shaped under his arm, and everything clicked. 

He stormed the stage, ignoring the gasps from the audience. “You have _The Book_!” 

Mysterio took a half-step back. Shock flashed across his face for a second before he settled back into his usual smug expression. “What _Book_?” 

“ _My Book_. You got your hands on it somehow. That’s why you’re able to predict—” 

He snapped his fingers again. “Gentlemen. _Now_.” 

Joe was dragged off stage and his feet along with Fred and Sam by the men, carried away like kittens by the back of their collars. They wiggled and squirmed to get free to no avail as Houdini tried to reason with Mysterio one last time. 

“Lauren, this is not—”   

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Mysterio shouted. “I must recollect myself. We will be back with more momentarily.” 

The crowd chittered away as the boys were tossed onto the sidewalk and ate a fistful of snow. 

Fred jumped up and marched back to the door now guarded by Mysterio’s henchmen. “Hey! Let us back in. Your boss has something that belongs to us.” 

They didn’t budge. 

Sam stood, brushing flecks of snow off his khakis. “Come on, Fred. You’re better off arguing with a brick wall.” 

The two minions shot Sam a death glare. 

Sam hopped back. “Eep.” 

Fred blew a raspberry at them before the two returned to Joe. They walked down the side of the building, out of earshot of Mysterio’s men. 

“We gotta figure out a way back in there, pronto,” Fred said. 

“No kidding,” Joe said. “Who knows how that creep will rewrite history.” 

“Is _now_ a good time to sneak in Ninja-Style?” 

Joe was more than on board with that plan. “But first we need to find—” 

Sam stopped in his tracks. “Isadora?” 

Joe followed Sam’s eyes. Sure enough, Izzy was leaning against the side of the building. She hugged herself and shivered, her pigtails damp from snow. She didn’t budge when Joe, Sam, and Fred approached her. 

Joe went to touch Izzy’s shoulder but hesitated. That probably would’ve been a little awkward considering he barely knew her. 

Fred pulled off his letter jacket and handed it to her. “Here, so you don’t freeze to death.” 

She looked at him with glistening and confused green eyes. “What about you?” 

He puffed out his chest. “I’m tough.” 

Sam smirked. “Oh, yeah. Hypothermia’s not even an issue.” 

“Exactly. Take it.” 

Izzy chuckled and pulled it on. “Thank you.” 

“Are you…” Joe trailed off. Stupid question. She clearly wasn’t fine.  

But to his surprise, she nodded and smiled weakly at him. “I’m fine. He just said some things I...” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know how he could’ve known about _that_.” 

Joe scratched the back of his head. “Well, we do. That jerk has _The Book_. He must’ve found things about you and read them back as if… as if he was possessed by your mom. I’m sorry.” 

Izzy’s face went from despondent to horrified to raging mad, and he couldn’t fault her. What Mysterio did was beyond messed up. Joe could only begin to understand how that made Izzy feel. 

She locked her jaw. “How could someone do that—” 

“Your _Book_ has records on people?” Houdini approached them, the sour look fading from his face. 

Joe scratched the back of his head. “I guess you could call it that.” 

He expected Houdini to ask why a fifteen-year-old kid would own a record book on other people, but instead, Houdini harrumphed and shrugged his shoulders dismissively. 

“I’ll admit, he almost convinced even _me_. But your _Book_ can’t possibly have records on everyone in history. His deceitfulness will be revealed soon enough.” 

The boys looked at each other and a silent conversation took place. It was almost laughable how wrong he was. 

“We still need to get our _Book_ back,” Joe said. “It’s a family heirloom.” 

“Very well,” Houdini said. “I understand your sentiment, but Lauren won’t let you in with his guards on duty, and I’m afraid I won’t be much help to you four as I’ll be of performing a show later this evening.” 

The boys groaned. 

“There might be one way in,” Joe mused. “Sure, we might not be able to get anywhere near Mysterio with his guards around, but I’m sure that we can rely on—” 

Eugene popped up from behind the building, his face unusually red. He panted like he ran five miles. 

“Thank goodness I found you all.” He brushed past them and grabbed Izzy’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I knew what he was planning and I should’ve warned you, all of you.” 

“It’s fine, Eugene,” Izzy said. “But I still don’t get why he singled _me_ out.” 

“I think he wanted to get back at you for standing up to him. Believe me, he’s not used to that.” 

Fred narrowed his eyes at Eugene. “If you knew Lauren had _The Book_ , why didn’t you tell your mom? I’m sure she would’ve beaten it out of him.” 

“I did,” Eugene rubbed his arm. “She gave him the what for … right before she was arrested.” 

Joe winced. “Ouch.” 

“She can handle herself just fine. They’ll go easy on her for being a woman and all, but for the moment I’m afraid we’re on our own.” 

“But you work for him. Can’t you sneak back in and grab it?” 

“I… can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

Eugene looked at the sidewalk. “Master Mysterio terminated me. I’m afraid I’m in the same boat as the rest of you.” 

Joe sagged his shoulder. “Whelp, there goes that plan.” 

“You had a plan?” Sam asked him. 

“More like… half a plan?” 

“Half of a plan isn’t a plan.” 

Joe was about to retort back with something equally sarcastic when a gust a wind blew, nearly knocking them all off their feet. 

Houdini shoved his hands in his pockets. “Perhaps we should discuss further plans somewhere more agreeable. Come now, children. Let’s go back to my home.” 

~*~ 

Back at Houdini’s place, the five of them assessed the situation while Mrs. Bess passed out them cookies and Houdini prepared for his show. Mrs. Bess was so riled up and annoyed at their predicament, Joe thought she was about to crush the plate with her bare hands. He was pretty sure that between her and Eugene’s mom, they could get _The Book_ back in an instant (after they were done beating Mysterio to a pulp, that is). 

Eugene informed them that Master Mysterio was heading to Yonkers that day on the way to another show in Connecticut. Before he was fired, Mysterio had him write his schedule and he stilled had it on a piece of scratch paper. 

“We _need_ to get _The Book_ back before his next show,” Joe said, staring at the paper. “We can cut him off at his layover at the hotel.” 

Izzy fidgeted with a napkin in her hands. “What do we do once we get there?” 

“Easy.” Fred dust cookie crumbs off his hands. “We sneak in Ninja-Style, find _The Book_ , grab it, and get out ASAP.” 

Sam slow clapped. “Brilliant plan, Eisenhower. Why didn’t anyone else think of that?” 

“Alright, _Einstein_. What do you suggest?” 

Sam rubbed his chin. “Eugene said that Mysterio ordered his men that, if they see us, that’ll we’ll be ‘dealt with,’ right?” 

Eugene gulped. “He’ll send us up the river.” 

Izzy’s face went pale. She dropped the napkin in her lap, and Joe noticed that she’d made a flower. “You think he’ll try to _drown_ us?” 

“Yeah,” Fred laughed. “And maybe he’ll give us the ole twenty-three skidoo.” 

Joe shook his head, but couldn’t help but snicker. 

Sam rolled his eyes. “‘Up the river,’ Izzy, is a phrase that means being sent to jail. What Fred said didn’t even make sense. Anyway, we need to find a way to sneak in, and for that, we need some sort of disguise.” 

“I am _not_ wearing another dress,” Fred complained. 

“You wanna take this seriously?” 

“I am. I already told you _my_ plan.” 

Joe drowned out their squabbling as a plan formed in his mind. Sam’s idea was good, but no disguise they came up with would be completely believable. Besides, even if they got past his men, Joe doubted they’d be able to fool Mysterio into handing them _The Book_ or letting his guard down with a bunch of strangers. 

But if Mysterio didn’t know that they were around… 

Joe’s eyes drifted to Houdini’s memorabilia lingering on the one he was most interested in yesterday. 

He turned to Houdini, a grin on his face. “How many escape boxes do you have? Preferably ones with air holes in them.” 

~*~ 

Izzy thought Joe’s idea was great. Sure, they had to spend a forty-minute trip to Yonkers trapped in dark, cramped boxes, cans, and crates in Houdini’s limo when there was a draft and also she couldn’t scratch her back… but it was a good plan nonetheless. 

Unfortunately, Izzy discovered that being trapped in a milk can gave her time to think. She couldn’t forget about Master Mysterio and how pretended to be her mother. It made her stomach ache with anger, disgust, and embarrassment. She wished she could’ve handled that situation better instead of running out and causing a scene like she was in a melodramatic soap opera. 

Remembering it made Izzy’s face flush. Thankfully her new friends didn’t tease her about it like she feared they would. 

Izzy also thought about the Monocled Man, but thinking of him made her think of her mother, so she pushed those thoughts way, _way_ back into the least visited corners of her mind… 

…but not before she thought about her dad, the memory of his disappearance far too fresh to be ignored. Her heart tightened with worry. She was anxious to get back to her own timeline so she could focus on finding out what happened. Maybe, with Joe’s _Book_ , she could— 

“Hey, Izzy?” 

Izzy jumped and banged her head on the roof of the milk can. “Uwah!” 

“Sorry!” Joe said. “Did I scare you?” 

“Uh, dude?” It was Fred. “Pretty obvious that you scared her.” 

“I-I’m okay,” Izzy whimpered. Her head throbbed. “What’s u-up?” 

Joe was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “I’m sorry about all this. Again. I know this isn’t what you signed up for when you went to see my audition.” 

Izzy nearly forgot about the talent show. So much has happened since then, it felt like it happened a week ago instead of a day or two. With the exception of every single encounter with Master Mysterio, Izzy wasn’t having too bad a time. Hey, she learned that time travel exists, got to meet Harry Houdini, and even got to spend time with kids her own age who were nice and didn’t treat her like a complete weirdo. Overall, this experience was a net positive. 

She shrugged, even though Joe couldn’t see her. “Not like you put us in this situation on purpose. It could be worse. Someone could be trying to kill us.” 

Sam sighed, his voice more distant. “Day’s not over yet.”  

~*~ 

The trip was mercifully short. 

Houdini’s chauffeur was a buff man in a spiffy suit named Charles. With Eugene’s help, the two manage to load all four of their escape boxes onto a platform truck. 

Izzy couldn’t help but lift the lid partially off her to peek at where they were going. A gust us frigid air whooshed in, and she was grateful for Fred’s letter jacket. 

A three-story building with muddy red bricks and white trim leaned slightly to the left in front of them. Black regal looking gates encircled the hotel; a dead oak tree sat in front of the estate on a small hill. A muscular man in a pinstriped suit and hat stood in front of the door, his arms crossed—one of Mysterio’s henchmen. 

“Izzy, get down!” Eugene hissed. 

Izzy scrambled down, careful not to make the lid slam shut and raise suspicion. They rolled for a moment before stopping abruptly. 

“Hey, hey.” The man at the door had a thick New York accent. “Sorry, Ellis, but you’re not allowed back here.” “Good afternoon, Mr. Jackson,” Eugene chirped. He sounded surprisingly calm and confident. “I know Master Mysterio told you not to let me in, but I got something that he’ll want to see. Something that belonged to a certain Harry Houdini.” 

A pause. 

“Seriously?” 

“You bet.” 

Another pause, followed by a hearty laugh from Mr. Jackson. “Wow, kid! Didn’t know you even had it in ya!” 

A slapping sound like Mr. Jackson smacked Eugene on the back. 

“R-right,” Eugene said, pain seeping into his voice. “So, are my associate and I free to go in?” 

“Sure thing, kid. Just don’t do anything else that’ll out you on Boss’s bad side. He’s on the top floor, room sixty-eight. You two need any help with those—” 

“No thanks,” Eugene said, rolling them inside. “We are perfectly capable.” 

They were rolled across a smooth linoleum floor before being trudged up bumpy stairs that rattled Izzy in her container. She bit her lip to stop from crying out. They came across two more of Mysterio’s men who were gossiping at the top of the second flight of stairs. Eugene fed them the same story and they let him go on before going back to their conversation. 

The ride was once again smooth before they came to a complete stopped. Someone knocked on a door. 

“I think I can take it from, Charles,” Eugene said. “We’ll need to be able to leave immediately if things go south.” 

Charles agreed and retreated, his footsteps echoing down the hall. 

A moment of quiet. Eugene knocked again. 

A click and a whoosh as the door swung open. “What is—” Mysterio paused. “ _You_.” Mysterio said “you” with the intensity of a slur. “How did you get past— no. Let me guess. Ralph and Ashleigh were gossiping again, those worthless—” 

Eugene cleared his throat. “Sir. I want to severely apologize for my earlier behavior. My attitude was unforgivable.” 

Mysterio sighed, like Eugene’s apology was an inconvenience. “Go on.” 

“I should have trusted your superior judgement. I want to beg for your forgiveness. And to facilitate my groveling, I brought you these gifts, straight from Houdini’s _private_ collection.” 

A _SMASH_ from a shattering of glass. Izzy imagined Mysterio dropped a glass in shock. 

“I-It’s seems like I misjudged you, b— Eugene.” Mysterio said “Eugene” the way Izzy would read a Spanish word she didn’t quite know. “Please, come in where we can discuss. You can fix me a new drink.” 

A fading pattering of footsteps, Mysterio retreating. With a strained groan, Eugene shoved the platform truck through the door. 

“It’s quite obvious you’re here trying to get your old job back. However, I cannot allow it.” The bed creaking; Mysterio sitting. 

“H-how come, sir?” Eugene’s voice sounded deflated and hurt. Izzy couldn’t figure out why Eugene was so hung up on working for a jerk like him. 

“Because I am a man of my word, and I _never_ go back on my word.” 

Izzy shivered at his words. She rubbed the goosebumps forming on her arms. 

“But I do have another position open.” The opening and shutting of a drawer. “It seems that I’ve hit a speed bump of sorts when handling this _Book_.” 

Izzy heard a soft gasp from Joe’s container. Mysterio continued, “I’ve mastered the basics, of course, and even manage to find a setting to read it in Braille, but I need you to be my guide until I can get a better handle on controlling it. Since you are its previous owner, you are perfect for the role.” 

“Um…” Eugene shifted, the floor squeaking beneath him. “Honestly, sir. I don’t know much about _The Book_.” 

A pause before Master Mysertio said, “I beg your pardon?” 

“By tradition, the oldest child in my family doesn’t get to use _The Book_ until we’re sixteen. I’ve only managed to sneak it away from my mother a couple times in order to read it. But I can still be useful and tell you what I do know—” 

“Because _you’re_ a wealth of information.” A sharp _SNAP_ of Mysterio closing _The Book_. “What a waste of my time. Why did I think you’d be of use to me?” 

Eugene was silent. 

Izzy clenched her fist. How could someone be so callous and cold-hearted? For all he knew, Eugene bent over backward to gain back his favor and had committed a crime in order to do so. And Mysterio acted like he was nothing but a problem. 

She felt for Eugene. Izzy had her fair share of “friends” using her, treating her badly, and throwing her away like nothing. No one came to her defense and she’d never stood up for herself. It was simpler to shy away from others, even if that meant she’d be lonelier. Despite that, she found it easier to stick up for others than stick up for herself. 

…which would be her reasoning for when she did the absolute dumbest thing imaginable at that moment. 

Izzy shoved the lid off. It crashed on the floor hard enough to qualify as an earthquake. “Just where do you get off, you son of a—” 

“A trick!” Mysterio shot up, _Book_ still in hand. 

“You bet!” She shimmied out the can and stumbled, managing to not fall over on her face. 

Her eyes were still adjusting to the light, but she could make out the sparsely decorated room they were in. It was smaller than she imagined with plain white walls and a twin bed with blood red sheets. The boxes and crates were pushed to the side, so they’d be able to make a quick escape, which they _definitely_ needed to do now. 

Mysterio glowered down at her. He wore his mask and a velvet blue robe. “Who _else_ is hiding in here?” 

“Uh, no one?” a muffled voice from a can. 

A groan from Sam. “Seriously, Fred?” 

The boys revealed themselves, removing their various covers and lids and exiting out of them. 

Fred shot her a pointed look. “ _I’m_ not the one who lost her cool.” Izzy opened her mouth to apologize to them when Mysterio put his fingers in his mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle. The five of them winced and covered their ears. The doors behind them burst open as two guards barreled into the room, one grabbing Sam and Joe, the other grabbing Izzy and Fred. Only Eugene was free. He stood there, frozen, his eyes darting from them to Mysterio. 

“M-M-Master Mysterio,” Eugene said. “Please, let my friends go. There’s no need for—” 

“Quiet _boy_ , and maybe you won’t share their fate. These four little miscreants will be carted off to jail.” 

“What for?” Joe said, struggling to free himself. “Trying to get back _my_ property?” 

“For attempted theft.” He glared at Izzy. “In your case, _dear_ , it would be that on top of eluding arrest.” 

Izzy barely heard him over the buzzing sound of her frantic thoughts. Her eyes were trained on a spot on a floor. 

“You can’t steal what belongs to you!” Joe protested. 

“Oh, but it _belongs_ to _me_. Besides, who would believe you, a child, over _me_? Soon to be the most famous and profitable spiritualist in all of history. With this _Book_ , I can become the single most important person in history. Why, I even read it in this _Book_.” 

“Master Mysterio,” Eugene’s voice was calmer than before. “You’re messing with something you clearly don’t understand. You can’t go around changing history—or the future— all willy-nilly. The consequences—” 

“I can do whatever I please.” 

“ _Wow_ ,” Fred said, turning to Eugene. “Is he naturally this full of himself, or is it an acquired skill?” 

“You don’t know the half of it,” Eugene muttered. 

Mysterio looked down at Eugene in shock and rage, but Eugene didn’t shrink back. “You have the _gall_ to—” 

“Stand up for myself?” Eugene squared his shoulders. “Is that also a crime?” 

The room divulged into bickering, their arguments blurring together until it became white noise nestled in the back of Izzy’s skull. She thought about how, if they were unable to get the _The Book_ back, they would be stuck in the past and sent to jail. Lauren wielded his power over them and there was nothing she could do. She scrambled mentally for ideas, for any way for her to get her friends out of there with _The Book_ , but every idea that came to her was discarded just as quickly. 

Well, except for one thing… 

Izzy took a deep breath. “Opstay! Everybodyay ustjay opstay ightingfay.” 

The room quieted and everyone turned to her, looking at her like she burst out yodeling. 

He sneered. “I _beg_ your pardon.” 

She concentrated on forcing a spell onto him so hard, sweat dripped down her face. “Aughlay _ownay_.” 

Nothing. Her stomach churned, and when she was nervous, her magic short-circuited. 

“Have you completely lost your damn mind?” 

“Uhhh.” She glanced at Mysterio and his men. “Oday youay appenhay ootay avehay theyay igglesgay? 

“Girl!” Fred hissed at her. “Now’s not the time to practice your pig Latin!” 

Izzy stomped her foot. “ _Ohnay_! Eythay ereway upposedsay otay aughlay. _Aughlay_!” 

Mysterios face twist like he smelled something foul. Joe cocked his head in confusion. 

Sam shook his head. “She’s lost it.” 

“Yeah,” Fred sighed. “Good news, guys. We broke a girl.” 

“No!” Eugene said. “She’s trying to cast—” 

The goon holding her and Fred snorted. He steeled himself, his entire body trembling until he could no longer hold it in and erupted into laughter. His buddy followed suit and soon, their laughs became a hardy roar that could probably be heard from downstairs. 

Izzy jumped, excited. “Yes!” 

Mysterio glowered at them. “Gentlemen, control yourse-se—” 

He tried to cover his mouth to stop bubbling laughter, before doubling over in a hysterical fit. 

“Eugene!” Izzy motioned for him to grab _The Book_ without giving away what she meant. “ _Ookbay_? Get it!” 

Eugene stared at her until realization dawn on him. “Oh!” In a swift motion, he grabbed _The Book_ from Mysterio’s hands. 

Mysterio’s glared was almost tempered by his giggling. He pointed a shaky hand at one of his goons. “G-g-get that _Book_ from them, you ninnies!” 

The room divulged into chaos that Izzy could barely keep track off. 

The man holding Fred and Izzy pushed them to the floor and barreled straight towards Eugene like a linebacker. 

Eugene squeaked. “Fred!” He tossed _The Book_ between the man legs and it flew into Fred’s lap. 

The man holding onto Sam and Joe tossed them aside and both men blocked off Fred from the rest of the group. 

Fred grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, you want this ol’ thing? Then here it _is_!” He chucked _The Book_ passed the goons heads towards Sam. He fumbled it between his hands like a bar of wet soap. 

Sam looked at _The Book_ in his hands in relief before his face morphed into panic. “Me? Why me? Why not—AAAH!” 

The two men dove towards Sam, who dropped like a lead weight. The two sailed out the door and hit the wall across the hall, laughing as they slid down. _The Book_ sprung out of Sam’s hands and skidded next to Mysterio’s feet. 

Joe dove towards _The Book_ just as Mysterio grabbed it. The two found themselves in a game of Tug o’ War, ending when Joe kicked Mysterio in his shin. Mysterio reeled back, hopping on one foot and cradling his leg, muttering some expletives and some very creative, old-timey slurs. 

“I got _The Book_!” Joe shouted. “C’mon!” 

The five of them rushed towards the door, Izzy taking up the rear. They got to the door— 

_BANG!_

The wall next to Izzy’s head exploded, a plume of dust and gravel raining down. The five of them stopped dead in their tracks. 

“Enough is enough.” Mysterio’s voice was low and controlled by him holding in laughter. 

Something cold and rigid pushed hard into the back of Izzy’s head. She trembled, her heart going into overtime. 

All color drained from Sam’s face. “A gun! He has a gun.” 

“Thanks, Sam,” Fred said. “We see that.” 

A low, deep chuckled from Mysterio slithered its way into her ears. “I don’t know what kind of witchcraft spell you placed on me, _girl_ , but you’re going to undo it, then we’re all going to have a nice. Long. _Chat._ ” 

“I’m hoping this chat is friendly,” Joe said, “and the gun to her head is a conversation piece.” 

“Shut. Up. You miserable, miserable brats have been nothing but a thorn at my side since I’ve met you, but it ends right now.” 

“We wouldn’t have bothered you if you just gave us _The Book_ back!” 

“Possession is nine-tenths of the law, and I possess _The Book_.” 

“Uh, are you blind?” Fred said. “ _We_ have _The Book_.” 

“Yes, but I have your little friend’s life in my hands, so—” 

He cocked the gun. 

Izzy shut her eyes and balled her hands into a fist to keep from shaking. The lump in her throat was growing by the second. She mentally prepared herself to do something reckless. Something she didn’t have much practice in. 

Eugene held up his hands and took a step forward. “Master Mysterio. Don’t hurt her.” 

“I won’t harm her.” Mysterio dug the barrel of the gun harder into her skull. “As long as you all play nice, I won’t have to do anything unsavor—” 

Izzy spun on Mysterio, grabbing his gun arm and twisting it behind him. She kicked him in the rear so hard he crashed onto the floor. His cape fluttered over him like a blanket as he lied still, a crumpled heap on the floor. 

Izzy reel the boys, who all recoiled in shock. The look in her eyes was probably wild, and the crazed smile on her face (that was from relief, not from lunacy) didn’t help. 

She swallowed the golf ball that was in her throat. “Let’s run.”


	5. Chapter 5

From anxious to annoyed to amazed to horror to impressed and back to horror, Joe never cycled through so many emotions so quickly. It’s a wonder he didn’t get a heart attack.

He cradled _The Book_ in his arms as they ran down the hall and stairs in a flash, not even looking back at Houdini’s escape boxes they left behind. They passed by surprised guards who didn’t even bother to stop them. The men hid in the nearest rooms as soon as they saw Mysterio sprinting down the hall, waving a gun around like a psychopath. 

Behind Joe, Izzy huffed, “I can’t believe that actually worked!” 

“Wait a minute,” Sam said. “You were going to judo kick a madman holding a _gun_ to your head without even knowing that you could even _do that in the first place_?!” 

Fred leaped over a guard cowering in a fetal position dead center in the hall. “What if he, y’know, _shot_ you?” 

A bullet whizzed past Izzy’s shoulder and hit a column, creating a mini explosion of marble. She laughed nervously. “Day’s not over yet.” 

“Can’t you magic us up a bulletproof vest? Or teleport us out of here?” 

“No! And even if I could, running for my life isn’t the optimal conditions for concentration!” 

Eugene ran ahead. “Enough chatter! Just run.” 

They slammed past the front door and into the freezing rain. A snoozing Mr. Jackson awoke with a strain, goose-like cry and fell over into a patch of mud. They reached the car and all dove straight in, landing on top of each other in a cold, wet heap on the seats. 

Joe got up first. He crawled into the seat behind Charles, _The Book_ — thankfully— still in his arms. “Drive! Drive, drive!” 

“Wait,” Sam said. “I gotta close the d— AH!”  

No hesitation, Charles floored it, zooming down the road faster than Joe thought an old limousine could go. Joe’s friends all pitched. They slipped on the wet floor and hot thrown into the back row. The limo tilted and the door slammed shut. 

Joe reclined in his row, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A moment of peace descended on them as the scenery passed in a blur and the hotel shrunk smaller and smaller behind them. Charles slowed to a normal driving speed. 

Joe didn’t get a good look at their surroundings when they arrived, and he definitely didn’t when they were fleeing for their lives. The hotel must have been in the middle of the woods because they were driving down a deserted, tree-lined lane with no other cars around. 

“Uuuuuuh,” Fred said. “I don’t wanna be the ‘I think we got company’ guy, but—” 

Through the wet windshield, another smaller car behind them painted black and blue was gaining on them. A man leaned out of the passenger side window, wielding something small and dark in his hand. 

Sam sat up, his eyes hid by fog on his glasses. “Can’t this thing go any faster?” 

“Kid,” Charles grunted, “I can’t even _see_.” 

“What?!” 

“Duck!” Izzy shrieked. 

They hit the seats just as the back window exploded, sending in large shards of glass and rain. Eugene cried out in pain. 

“Eugene!” Izzy said. 

She had her hand on his shoulder, her green eyes wide and panicky. Eugene’s eyes were screwed shut, his palm pressed to his forehead. A trickle of blood ran down his temple. 

“Were you hit?” Joe asked. 

“No, no. It was just a piece of flyaway glass.” 

“We gotta find a way to lose that maniac!” Izzy said. 

“There might be a way. Joe, there’s—” 

“Duck!” Fred called out. 

The _BANG!_ of Mysterio’s gun was softened by the roar of the wind and rain. Another explosion of shattering glass. The front windshield this time. 

Charles chuckled. “That’s better.” 

“Joe!” Eugene said. “I think there’s a spell in _The Book_. Some sort of holey worm transportation? If you can find and cast it we may be able to get out of this in an instant.” 

“Right!” Joe flipped through _The Book_ with trembling hands as fast as he could. He hovered over it to block out the rain that’d damage _The Book_. 

Joe couldn’t help but think that even if he found the spell, he didn’t know if he’d be capable of performing it. He could barely perform practical magic, let alone the real thing, aside from a few outbursts he was barely able to control. He had a flashback of his abysmal talent show tryout; of the usher at Houdini’s show mocking him, and he couldn’t help but feel utterly powerless. 

“Duck!” Sam’s voice was shrill. “Again.” 

“Then get _down_!” Fred shouted, followed by a shuffle, a _thunk_ , and Sam crying out in surprise. Joe imagined Fred yanked him down by force, just missing the bullet that whizzed by and lodged itself into the glove box. 

He tried to put his worries way, _way_ back into his mind so he could focus on finding the spell. He _needed_ to succeed, otherwise, they all’d be dead. 

Something caught Joe’s eyes. He paused and turned back a couple pages before landing on a page entitled _The Orthodox Space Warp_. Underneath the title was a passage he had to read. 

Joe punched in the right coordinates to Houdini’s house and read the passage, running through it so fast the words bled together. He waited for a second for the spell to take hold, but— 

“Why doesn’t that stupid _Book_ ever work when we need it?” Sam said. 

“Uuuuuuh,” Fred said. “I don’t wanna be the ‘he’s gaining on us’ guy—” 

“Then stop doing that!” 

Joe made the mistake of looking. Mysterio’s car was catching up to them. Through the rain, Joe saw a faint blue glow on Mysterio’s finger where he wore that gaudy, blue ring. 

Joe frowned. “What the—” 

The limo hit a bump and they all were tossed into the air for a second. _The Book_ hit Joe on the head. He ignored the glass that scraped his arms and went back to scanning the page, looking for something he missed. 

“I need at least two people to read this thing!” 

Fred climbed over the seat towards him. “Fine. I’ll—” 

The limo hit another bump, harder this time. Fred was thrown back to the rear, landing on Sam. “Never mind.” 

Izzy leaned over the back of Joe’s seat, her face sickly green. “Tell me what to say!” 

“Here.” Joe showed her the page. “Just read it.” 

“I— I can’t. Just tell me!” 

Joe didn’t want to waste time arguing with her. He told her what to say. “It needs to be at the same time. On the count of three, alright?” 

Izzy nodded. 

“Okay. One, two, three!” 

_“From North and South, from West and East, Close the distance from A to B!”_

Existence ripped in half in front of them, expanding into a swirling green gateway through time and space. The portal glowed like a miniature sun; steam rose from the limo’s metal exterior. Joe’s clothes instantly dried. He shielded his eye from its blaze. Izzy, however, stared right into it, her mouth agape and her face washed with green light. 

Charles stomped on the brakes “HOLY—” The screeching tires covered his swear. They were going too fast to stop. The limo skidded straight into the portal and they warped. 

Joe time traveled with _The Book_ plenty of times, but this was the first time he warped with an entire vehicle. Imagine being in a tin can on the world’s wildest roller-coaster that’s suddenly been flung into the air. The six of them screamed as they were tossed around like rocks in a dryer. One of them (who _wasn’t_ Joe) shouted, “Mama!” 

As soon as it started, it ended. The limo bounced like a basketball as the portal deposited them back on solid ground. It spun in a few circles and lurched to a stop, flinging the teens one last time. 

After a dazed second, Joe’s vision cleared and he could make out who’d landed on top of him in the commotion. His vision focused and he stared into the bright green eyes of… Sam. 

“Dude. Off.” Joe sat, Sam sliding off him in the process. 

Sam’s glasses were missing. He wore Fred’s hat. “Sorry, sorry. Have you seen my glasses?” 

“We’ll check the floor.” Joe peered over the seats. “Is everyone okay?” 

Fred shot a thumbs-up over the seats. “I’m nauseous!” 

Izzy swayed as she got up, and grabbed Eugene’s arm for support. Sam’s glasses were upside down on her face. “I’m blind!” 

“ _I’m_ blind!” Sam yelled from the floor. 

Eugene slumped against the seat. “I’m still bleeding…” 

Charles rested his forehead on the steering wheel. “And I’m going to the loony bin.” 

~*~ 

After Joe instructed Fred to lean out the window if he was going to puke and let Sam and Izzy know that they could help each other out with their simultaneous blindness, Joe mustered up the needed charisma to calm Charles down. 

He slid over to the passenger seat and grinned. “That was some grade A driving you did back there, Charles. I don’t know how you managed to get us back here in record time.” 

Joe wished he could’ve warned the guy before he did what he had to. Charles shivered as he glanced from Joe to the window. 

“But that portal…” 

“What portal?” 

“Didn’t you see? The green rift, the glow?” 

“You must have been in the zone so hard you blacked out and started hallucinating. I heard that happens with people who are good at things.” 

Joe patted the man on the back and grinned wider, hoping that Charles didn’t notice the sweat dripping down his temple. 

To his relief, Charles nodded. He straightened up and dusted bits of glass off his suit. “Huh. I guess you’re right, kid. I was pretty good. Heh.” 

He smirked and Joe sighed, relieved. He turned back to Eugene. “Now let’s get you some medical attention.” 

~*~ 

Houdini and Mrs. Bess arrived a few moments after them. They regrouped in the dining room and explained everything that happened (minus opening a portal through space) while Mrs. Bess dressed Eugene’s wound. 

“I’m sorry we left your stuff behind,” Joe said. “And the damage to the limo.” 

Houdini waved it off. “Think nothing of it, my boy. Just means that now there’s more space to fill with even _more_ impressive props. I’ll have to plan more elaborate shows in the future.” 

“Ever the optimist, this one,” Fred muttered. 

Houdini turned to Eugene and appraised him, impress. “It takes a real man to stick with his friends and do what’s right. I know someone who could use a loyal assistant like you.” 

Eugene’s jaw dropped. “Y-you’re hiring me as an assistant, sir?” 

“Well, no, but I could set you up with a friend of mine. Of course, you can speak to me whenever you need.” 

“It would be an honor, sir.” 

Joe clapped him on the back. 

Fred playfully nudged his shoulder. “Way to go, man!” 

“It’s getting late,” Mrs. Beth said. “Shouldn’t you kids be heading back home?” 

Joe nodded. “It’s been great.” 

“Mostly,” Sam muttered. 

Handshakes and a few hugs around; Sam congratulating Eugene, Izzy thanking Houdini for everything, Fred asking Mrs. Bess for the recipe for her cookies. 

Houdini firmly shook Joe’s hand and said, “I see great things for you in the future, Joseph.” 

Joe smiled, hoped he wasn’t grinning like a giddy idiot, and thanked Houdini. A part of him wanted to remark under his breath that whether he did or not, Houdini would never know, but there was a spark in Houdini’s eyes that gave Joe the feeling that the man knew more than he was letting on. The spark was short-lived, however. Houdini winked at him and Joe shook the feeling off. 

After their final goodbyes, the five of them left the residence and walked down the block. The sun was hidden behind homes so only a few golden rays escaped past the darkening clouds in the sky. The neighborhood was vacant, the last of their company kids returning home just as the street lights turned on. 

“This is goodbye.” Eugene turned to them. “It’s been… not fun, but a word very, very, very close to it.” 

Joe gave him a half hug followed by a light punch to the shoulder. “Take care, dude.” 

Sam and Fred followed suit with a handshake and fist bump, respectively. 

Izzy hugged Eugene, who looked like he was about to faint. “Remember to stand up for yourself. Don’t let people take advantage of you again, okay?” 

“I will, Isadora... If you remember to do the same?” 

She stared at him, wide-eyed, before hugging him harder. 

Fred rolled his eyes. “Yeesh. You two want a room?” 

Joe flipped to the transporter page. “You guys ready?” 

“Wait!” Izzy grabbed onto Fred’s arm. 

He furrowed his brow. “Uh, not that I mind, but—” 

“I don’t want to warp again unless I’m holding onto something sturdy.” 

And with a final wave goodbye from Eugene, they warped back home.        

~*~    

They landed back on their high school stage in a burst of green light. The janitor didn’t budge. The kissing couple was gone. They all hit the stage with a thud, jolting the teacher awake. 

He clapped as if he saw something moderately impressive.  “Excellent job, Joseph. Well done. You’re in. Next!” 

No one came on stage after that. The teacher fell asleep again almost immediately. 

After a moment of silence, the four of them laughed, the tension from the last few hours bubbling away. 

Izzy’s laugh turned into a long groan. She rubbed her hands over her face. “Ugh! I can’t, I’m so, can’t even… Ugh!” 

“Poignant,” Sam said. 

“If that happens to you guys often, I can’t believe you guys aren’t exhausted all the time. Or crazy. Or dead.” 

Joe scooted closer to her. “What about you? I can’t believe you know actual magic.” 

“Wanna explain what that was about?” Fred asked. 

She scratched the back of her head. “I told you my dad’s a magician.” 

“Yeah, but I figured it was more rabbit-out-of-a-hat than—” 

“Manipulating reality?” Sam suggested.  

Fred snapped his fingers. “That.” 

She blushed. She stared at the floor, but she was smiling. 

“Can you teach _me_ magic?” Joe asked. 

Izzy looked at him and Joe bit his lip. The girl was clearly shy and overwhelmed by everything that’s happened today. She most likely wouldn’t be up to it. He shouldn’t have sprung the question on her so suddenly. Joe also didn’t want her to get the idea that he was using her. 

She shrugged. “I guess I could try. I’ve never taught anyone, well, _anything_ to be honest.” 

“Did none of your friends from your last school know?” 

Izzy twisted her earrings. Joe noticed that the little hourglasses had green sand in them that moved when she flipped them. “I never had real friends before.” 

The three of them laughed until she trained her glistening eyes back on the floor. She was telling the truth.  

“How have you _never_ had friends before?” Fred asked.  

Sam elbowed him. “You don’t have to answer that.” 

Joe smiled and playfully ribbed her. “Well, you got us now.” 

She smiled wide, and he was relieved. “Joe, I gotta ask you something.” 

“What is it?” 

“I was wondering if you’d mind … uh, if you’d mind telling me if you had a favorite falafel stand?” 

Joe blinked, confused. He was sure he looked just as confused as when she started talking in pig Latin. “A falafel stand?” 

“Yeah. You know what they say: A falafel a day is… a falafel a day? Haha.” 

Fred was the only one who laughed. When he noticed Joe and Sam quizzical look, he said, “What? It’s funny cuz it’s true.” 

Joe rolled his eyes then turned his attention back to Izzy. “Um yeah. There’s one on Joralemon I go to with my uncle when he’s in town. Why?” 

“Great! Let’s go there now. Right now. My treat.” She hopped off the stage and walked backward to the doors. She motioned for the three of them to follow. 

Fred jumped down and followed her. “Say no more. I’m there.” 

Joe and Sam shrugged at each other, silently agreeing to go along with it and followed the other two. 

“You really want to eat after you puked a half hour ago?” Sam asked Fred. 

“Hey, my tanks empty.” 

The two passed through the double doors, still discussing the pros and cons of eating after throwing up. 

Izzy grabbed Joe’s arm before they passed. He looked at the top of her head while she stared intently at a crack on the floor. 

“What’s up?” 

“Thank you.” She looked him in the eyes and smiled, small but genuine. For the first time, he noticed that there was a ring of brown around her pupils. 

Joe couldn’t help but smile back, even though he wasn’t exactly sure what she was thanking him for. “No problem.” 

~*~ 

Lauren found himself venturing into the shady part of town carrying a box with a few exotic baubles and “historical artifacts” he intended on selling. Even with Houdini’s death four years ago, he wasn’t having any luck finding new gigs and times were changing. With business waning and a pregnant wife to feed, he needed to find a new way to make money. Thankfully, that old paddy, Abban O’Heyne, who owned the pawn shop always gave him a good deal.  

He shouldered the door open, the bells above the door frame ringing. The pawn shop smelled like an abandoned church with a hint of _odeur de rat mort_. About what Lauren expected since O’Heyne could never figure out how to open a window. 

However, it wasn’t him behind the counter as usual. As Lauren passed the shelves of cracked antiques and dusty books, he noticed more details about the man who’d taken the owners usual place. He was a brown man, maybe an Indian, in a long black cloak over a faded suit. The hood of the cloak was pulled over his face so most of his features were obscured save for his lower face, but Lauren caught a flash of something: a monocle over his left eye. 

Lauren never met the man, but something about the man felt oddly familiar. 

He placed the box on the counter. “Where’s O’Heyne?” 

“He couldn’t make it in today. I’m filling in for the old buffoon—I mean, old chap.” 

Lauren quirked a brow. Since when did O’Heyne have such odd friends? No matter, it wasn’t any of his business, and he didn’t really care anyhow. “I’m here to—” 

“I know why you’re here, Anderson. But this _junk_ doesn’t interest me.” 

Lauren blanched but held his composure. He chalked up this strange man knowing his name to O’Heyne mentioning him in a conversation. 

“ _Junk_? This stuff is—” 

“Forgeries. Fakes. Copies.” The man flipped through items in the box with each word. “Only a fool would believe that this,” he held up a sack of fake gold coins, “is Blackbeard’s secret treasure, or that this,” he pulled out a parchment, “is Da Vinci’s missing manuscripts. Doesn’t match his handwriting when held up to harsh scrutiny.” 

The man ripped up the paper into tiny pieces and threw them into the air like confetti. But they didn’t just flutter down, they caught fire. The green flames died as quickly as they appeared, the ashes of his faked manuscript falling and collecting into piles onto the counter. 

To add insult to injury, the man scooped the ashes into his palm and blew them like a kiss in his face. He looked at Lauren with a cocky grin. 

Lauren wiped the dust off his face. For the first time in years, he was stunned speechless. This man was a wizard of sorts and, for whatever reason, he was taunting him. He balled his fist. Well, if this was a game, then he could certainly play. 

He smiled and nodded like he was impressed. “Nice trick, old sport. You know, I myself am quite adept in magic as well.” 

A wave of his hand and the ring on his finger glowed a vibrant blue. Instantly, a thunderclap shook the building and it began sprinkling outside. Lauren’s grin dropped when he caught a look on the man’s face. 

The corners of his lips twitched. He busted out laughing, doubling over and pounding his hand on the counter repeatedly like he just heard the world’s funniest joke. 

“You mean that ring of yours?” he gasped in between laughs. “Puh-lease! Yes, while the Lapis Manalis is very impressive, you can’t claim it’s power as your own. Innate magic won’t enter your family for another generation.” 

Again, Lauren was stunned. He didn’t know whether to be offended that this lunatic mocked him for controlling the very _weather_ , or taken aback by the casual way this man alluded to knowing the future of his family tree. 

It wasn’t too much of a surprise that a wizard had his own means to see into the future like he did all those many, many years ago. Lauren saw right through him; he was using his knowledge to manipulate him into kowtowing to his whims (whatever they were), a tactic Lauren knew all too well. He wasn’t about to play into this man’s hand. 

“Sir, if you’re not interested in any of my wares, then we have no business here today.” 

“Oh, but I _am_ interested, you see. I’m quite interested in the Lapis Manalis.”  

“It’s not for sale. It was my poor great grandmother’s wedding ring.” 

The man scoffed. “Come now, Anderson. We both know you stole that ring from “gypsies” on your holiday across Europe, but I don’t really care about that. That’s all in the past.” 

Lauren straightened up and fixed his suit, intent on showing no weakness. “No deal.” He turned on his heel headed towards the door. “Feel free to keep the _junk_.” 

The man sighed. “Very well. I tried.” 

Lauren froze, but not of his own volition. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t so much as _twitch_ any part of his body. It was if he was trying to move in solid, ten-ton stone. A bolt of fear ran up his spine and kick-started his heart into overdrive. 

Through the reflection of the window, Lauren watched the man glide around the counter so smoothly as if he were walking on air. In his hand was a long metal cane with an hourglass of glowing green sand that Lauren recognized. He had a vivid memory of dodging it as a beautiful woman tried to pummel him to death with it. 

The man moved in front of him, the smile on his face wider. He plucked the ring from Lauren’s finger and put it on his own. “I’ll take that. Really, it was wasted on you anyway. You see, my purpose is far greater, but I’m sure you don’t care about any of that.” 

Lauren struggled to move his jaw and speak. It felt like it was bolted shut. “What did you… do to me?” 

The man shook his head like he was disappointed Lauren didn’t ask about his great plan. “It’s a paralysis spell, or maybe it was a localized time-freezing spell. It should wear off in an hour or two. Maybe a whole day. You may be permanently paralyzed. Your wife is pregnant with the only child you’ll ever have, so I don’t really care what happens to you now.” 

“Why not do that… in the first place? Why mock me?” 

“How could I pass up the chance to mess with the great-great-grandfather of one of my most hated rivals. Mainly it was indirect, petty vengeance, though in my experience, that’s the fifth—no _sixth_ — best kind.” 

The man kicked Lauren over. He crashed to his side a violent shiver ran down his body like every part of him was asleep. The man chuckled. 

“Now if you excuse me, I must pay a visit to a dear old friend. It’s been so long, I hope he recognizes me.” He pulled out a silver pocket watch from the inside of his suit. He wound it and smiled down at Lauren, and for the first and only time, he saw the man’s face. 

“Tata.” 

A blinding flash of golden light enveloped him. When it vanished, the man was no longer there, leaving Lauren Anderson on the floor, paralyzed and alone, with only the muffled sound of rain to keep him sane.


	6. Chapter 6

“A falafel a day is a falafel a day” is the fifth—no _sixth_ — dumbest thing Izzy ever said aloud. She hadn’t meant to ask Joe the code phrase so soon, especially with Sam and Fred around; she’d wanted to ask him if she could use _The Book_ to find her father. If it had the history of other people’s lives, then it must be able to tell her where her dad was and maybe even why he left. 

But before she could ask, Izzy remembered her dad’s instructions to not go looking for him. She was torn. She wanted to know he was okay but didn’t want to disobey him. 

Joe, Sam, Fred, and Izzy took a bus to Joralemon and found the bright green and gold dome-shaped falafel stand easily. _Phil’s Fantastic Falafel_ sat next to a small, empty park away from the street. A few round tables sat around the stand, the large green parasols closed since there was no need to hide from the sun on such a chilly day. 

A familiar looking Asian girl with long black hair in a high ponytail stood in front ordering from the smiling man. Izzy made a good first impression by bumping into her, too busy talking to the boys about a superhero movie to stop in time. 

“I’m sor—” 

The girl whipped her head at Izzy and sneered at her. 

All the color drain out of Izzy. “—reeeeeeee?” 

The girl cocked her head and said in a raspy voice, “Excuse me?” 

“I-I said I was sorry.” 

Another second of leering before the girl made a sound of disgust and turned away, grabbed her order, and tipped the cashier. When she spun back around, the annoyed look still in her eyes, Izzy leapt back, bumping into Joe behind her. 

“What was _that_ about?” the girl asked. 

“I’m giving you your space.” 

“That ’sposed to be sarcasm or something?” 

“I can’t sarcasm on purpose.” 

The girl raised an eyebrow and stared down at Izzy like she was trying to figure her out. 

Izzy gulped. “Every time I’ve been sarcastic it’s been on accident or when I’m mad, I can’t control it, I swear.” 

The girl shook her head. “Tch. Space cadet.” 

Fred stepped forward so he was indirectly between them and fixed the girl a hard look. “Hey, lay off her.” 

The girl paid no attention to Fred. She strolled past them, shouldering Izzy as she headed down the sidewalk and eating her falafel. 

“I swear I saw her eat the foil,” Sam muttered when she was far enough. 

Izzy ran a hand over her hair. “Why do I anger the people I mildly inconvenience?” 

“It could’ve been worse,” Joe said. “With what I heard about her.” 

“You know her?” 

“Everyone does,” Fred said. “Rin goes to our school. That chick breaks femurs for kicks. Like, she literally kicks them to break them.” 

Izzy blanched. “What?!” 

“That was just a rumor. All she did was…” Sam winced as if he were remembering something horribly unpleasant, “snapped a kid’s collarbone.” 

“Why did she _do_ that?” 

Joe shrugged. “Why would _you_ snap someone’s collarbone?” 

“I wouldn’t snap _anyone’s_ collar bone!” 

Izzy stared in the direction Rin went, her dark hair disappearing into the crowd, and a wave of anxiety wash over her. Going to a new school was hard enough (even if she didn’t leave any friends behind or even teachers she liked), she didn’t want to deal with someone already hating her for something so small. 

Fred affectionately shook her shoulder. “Don’t worry. Just bust out that kung fu magic like you did earlier and you’ll handle her no problem.” 

She didn’t know whether to tell him it was actually tae kwon do, not kung fu, or she’d prefer not to fight people if she could help it. 

Joe patted her on the shoulder. “Ignore her—and _them_ ,” he tossed a glance at Fred and Sam, “I’m sure she won’t even bother you again. C’mon. Let’s order.” 

The guy manning the stand—who must’ve been Phil—smiled as the three put in their order. When it was her turn to order, Izzy asked for the, “ _Paladino Supreme_ , please?” 

“ _Paladino Supreme?_ ” Sam asked, squinting at the menu. “I don’t see that anywhere.” 

“It’s on the secret menu,” Izzy said. “A lot of food stands have a version of it if you ask.” 

Thankfully, Sam nodded, seemingly accepting Izzy’s lie. She felt a little guilty but knew she couldn’t tell him the truth. 

Phil didn’t even flinch at her made up order. “Of course, darling.” He magically prepared their orders pretty quickly and handed them their food. The boys grabbed a table as Izzy stayed behind to pay. 

She fished out her wallet. “How much do I owe you?” 

“It’s on the house, darling.” 

Too stunned to argue, Izzy thanked him and stuffed a wad of cash into the tip jar. 

He smiled, blue eyes twinkling. “Thank you, Isadora.” He had a faint accent she couldn’t place. “You’re as sweet as I remember—from what Anthony’s told me, I mean.” 

She glanced at the boys to make sure they couldn’t hear her before leaning towards the man. “You know my dad? How? Can you tell me where he is? I know I’m not supposed to look for him, but I need to know if he’s okay.” 

He looked away, scratching his cheek. “I’m not authorized to—” 

“ _Please?_ ” 

Phil looked back at her, his shoulders sagging. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering quietly, “Dammit, Em,” then said, louder, “look, Isadora. Your father is fine. He’s capable, smart, and knows what he’s doing.” 

“But what _is_ he doing?” 

“He’s doing his best to keep you safe. And when he’s done, he’ll come home and explain everything. I promise.” 

Izzy huffed and resisted the urge to stomp her foot like frustrated little kid. Why did she always have to be left in the dark? Why couldn’t her father ever tell her what was going on? She wasn’t fragile, she was fifteen, but ever since the death of her mother, he’s been twice as protective. 

Not that she could blame him. Izzy understood where he was coming from and knew he only wanted her to be safe. She got that, but she wished she didn’t have to put up with secrets all her life. 

She slinked back, her eyes cast on her shoes. “Fine.” 

Phil chirped, “Now that you’ve moved into a new place and found the magician named Joe, I can report to your father that you’re safe.” 

“So you _do_ know where he is?” 

“Yes… and no. It’s complicated. I can’t tell you anything beyond that. It’s classified.” 

Izzy frowned. “Who are you, exactly?” 

“Also classified.” 

Izzy huffed. “Alright. If you see him, can you tell him I love him and… and come home safely. We need to talk.” 

Phil smiled, but his eyes were so sad it shocked Izzy. “Of course, Isadora.” 

She thanked him again and returned to the three talking and enjoying their food at the table. 

Joe was the first to notice her expression. He looked at her, concern. “Everything okay?” 

“Was he giving you trouble?” Sam asked. 

Izzy shook her head and forced a smile. “Everything’s fine.” 

Fred and Joe nodded and went back to eating their food (or inhaling, in Fred’s case). She could’ve sworn Sam curiously narrowed his eyes at her, but the look disappeared as soon as she noticed it. 

For the next couple hours, the four of them hung out. They talked about games and movies and goofed around. When it was time for them to all go home, they all exchanged numbers. 

She hadn’t exchanged numbers with other kids in years. She looked at the three new numbers in her phone in between her parent’s, Auntie Em’s, and the nonemergency police number. With the additional numbers, she could actually _scroll_ through her contacts. 

She couldn’t believe she _made_ new friends on her first day to a new school. Izzy tried to contain her happiness; she didn’t want to get strange looks by giggling like a dummy on the bus. 

Again. 

The bus ride served to calm Izzy and give her time to think. Despite her father’s orders to find a particular boy she’s never met before, take Bess and Houdini, (her pet rabbits, not the people she met earlier), move to a new apartment, and go to a new school, her father disappearing for short periods of time was nothing new. She dealt with it before and this would be no different. 

She’d hoped. 

Her dad would be back in a week, two weeks, tops. He’d be fine, and when he got back home, she’d introduce him to her new friends. 

~*~ 

Over the past three weeks, Izzy in the group was quickly becoming the new normal. She accompanied the three of them to their trips to the mall, study sessions, and biweekly visits to Ray’s pizza. Thankfully since they met, there’ve been no accidental warps, and Izzy was slowly becoming more and more comfortable around them. In fact, Joe even asked her to help him with his performance for the talent show since they got along well. It also didn’t hurt that she would make a way lovelier assistant than Fred. 

Despite their growing friendship, Izzy was absent during their—completely on purpose and _mostly_ controlled—trips to the future. Most recently Joe, Fred, and Sam took a trip to 2111 for Jodie’s Sweet Sixteen. Unfortunately, Izzy couldn’t make it since she had tae kwon do class, but on a positive note, this gave them extra time to figure out how to introduce a friend to their great-granddaughters from the future. 

The first Saturday of Izzy teaching Joe magic, they hung out at the vacant basketball court a block from his house. He sat crisscross across from her with a basketball on his lap while she drew circles over and over again with a piece of chalk. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Joe frowned. “What’s up?” 

A twist of her earrings. “I should’ve mentioned this sooner, but only some people have natural magical abilities. I’ve heard there’s a test for it but I don’t know how to perform it.” 

“Huh.” That was news to him. Admittedly, Joe didn’t know much about real magic. The only person he could ask, his uncle Joe, was frequently away and insisted on never getting a phone. 

“Have you ever used magic before, or have had an outburst of some kind?” 

He told her about the first time he ever slowed down the time of an object using his mind. 

Izzy dropped her chalk and stared at him like he admitted to walking on water. “You’ve _done_ that? Seriously?” 

“Yeah. Is that good?” 

“It’s incredible! Centralized time manipulation? Controlling time is one of the hardest things you can do. I was pretty sure it was impossible before we warped.” 

Joe rubbed the back of his head kind of flattered. “Well, besides the first time, I’ve never done it on purpose, any of the times it happened.” 

There’ve been a couple times over the years Joe, Sam, and Fred were in a jam and Joe—somehow— was able to slow the time around objects: bullets flying at them, the three of them falling out a window, a cranky old woman throwing rotten fruit at them. Most of the time, he’s done it completely by mistake. 

Izzy’s jaw dropped. “You’ve done it more than once?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Pfft. Way to humble brag. You sure you even need me?” 

“Yes! I mean there’s still things I have no clue about. Like do spells _have_ to be spoken in pig Latin? Why not Spanish or Hebrew or, y’know, _actual_ Latin?” 

Izzy picked up the piece of chalk and frowned at it. “I… don’t know, just how it works. Even for nonmagical people, they can use pig Latin to make magical items work. Like wands or other items.” 

“Or _The Book_.” Joe remembered Sam and Fred telling him about the time they and Samantha warped to Russia. She used _The Book_ to bring objects from the past into the present, but she never demonstrated any magical capabilities outside of that. 

Izzy nodded. “For magical people, speaking in pig Latin helps us concentrate and focus our energy for what we want to do. Think of words like, uh, training wheels. A skilled wizard or witch really doesn’t need it –although, in some instances, it can help conserve energy—but for a newbie or someone learning how to use magic for the first time it’s an excellent crutch.” 

“The first time I did magic,” Joe said. “I didn’t use any pig Latin, though. I was speaking English.” 

Izzy shrugged. “It must’ve been a coincidence. You spoke in English but you were doing the spell regardless.” 

She snapped the piece of chalk in half in one hand. “Soon, it’ll be like second nature to you and you’ll do it without thinking. I used to levitate pencils in class when I was bored without thinking about it. I even, um…” 

Izzy cast her eyes away from his, an embarrassed glow around her. Joe quirked a brow. 

“You even what?” 

“I used to steal snacks and soda from vending items when no one was looking.” 

Joe laughed. “You? Stealing?” He couldn’t imagine it. She seemed too innocent to even jaywalk or download music without buying it first. 

She blushed. “Just promise me you won’t abuse your power like I did.” 

“No promises.” 

Izzy fixed him with a look, but Joe could tell she was trying not to smile. He couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“ _Anyway_ ,” she said, “before you begin to practice magic, there’s a bunch of reading and meditation you’re supposed to do... But that’s dull and boring, which is why we’re going to nix it. I believe you learn best by doing. So, I’ll have you start by moving the basketball.” 

“Okay, and how do I do that?” 

Her face screwed up in thought. “Hmm...” 

She exhaled, the tension in her face fading away. Silently, she raised her hand and the basketball hovered in the air, surrounded by a transparent green aura. She spoke, her voice more controlled than he ever heard before, “I think of my arm extending beyond myself, changing shape, and surrounding the ball. I get this tiggly-wiggly tug in my gut—” 

“Tiggly-wiggly?” 

“Yes, hush. I can basically call on this feeling whenever I want; I channel it into exerting my will over things.” 

She blinked and looked at him quizzically. “Am I making any sense?” 

“I think so,” Joe said. “Let me try.” 

Izzy lowered the basketball and the glowing stopped. Joe lifted his hand at the ball and stared at it, focusing on calling forth the “tiggly-wiggly” feeling for a moment then a minute. Sweat dripped down his temple. He concentrated, and concentrated… 

“Do you remember the feeling?” 

Joe jumped. Izzy covered her mouth to cough, but Joe knew she was laughing. 

“Sorry. I was going to say when I first starting practicing, it was pretty… let’s say sporadic. My dad told me to close my eyes and focus on the sensation instead of the object and work outwards from there. That might help.” 

Joe said okay and tried to do that. 

He closed his eyes and tried to recall how it felt. He thought about the time his friends and his sister warped to ancient China. He remembered when Wang shot an arrow at Anna, how terrified he was when he thought he was about to lose her, his only option when he could get to her in time— 

Joe gasped. “I felt it! I felt the tiggly-wiggly! …and I’m really glad no one was around to hear me say that.” 

Izzy clapped her hand. “Do it again! You’re so close.” 

Joe thought about the feeling again, and slowly, he was able to conjure it again. It traveled from his gut, up his arms, and to his hands. He opened his eyes and channeled it into making the ball… 

“Iseray.” 

A green aura surrounded the ball as it shakily rose into the air. He raised his arm and the ball hovered higher into the air above him. 

Izzy cheered. “You did it!” 

She hugged him, catching Joe off guard. He lost his concentration and dropped the ball… right on top of Izzy’s head. 

“Ack!” 

“Sorry!” 

“I-it’s okay.” She beamed at him. “You did great.” 

Over the next week, Joe spent some of his free time practicing levitating objects about the size of the basketball. Eventually, he could do it almost effortlessly and didn’t even need to speak any magic words. 

Fred, Sam, and the girls were impressed at first, much to Joe’s amusement. For years now, they’ve been dismissive of his abilities as a magician and now he could do real magic. Their shocked reaction felt like a personal victory until he ruined it by showboating every chance he got and ruined the novelty of his new trick quickly. Next time, we wouldn’t wear out the freshness of the next new spell he’d learn. 

Still, who could blame him, really? 

The next Saturday afternoon, the four of them hung out at Ray’s Pizza. They crowded around the pinball table, watching Izzy beautifully fail at playing pinball. She frantically jabbed the buttons on the side hard enough to dent the machine over and over, but somehow the balls kept falling through. 

Besides Joe, Fred leaned on the pinball machine and pounded the top of the glass as he laughed, rattling Sam’s plate and Joe’s cup. “How are you so bad at this?” 

Izzy’s eyes squinted in focus and frustration. “I’ve never pinballed before. Am I doing something wrong?” 

Across from Joe, Sam dabbed some grease off a piece of pepperoni pizza with a napkin and smirked. “Yeah, you actually have to hit the ball.” 

Izzy’s brow furrowed. “Wait. I have to _hit_ the ball?” 

Joe laughed and cracked his knuckles. “Move aside, Iz. I’ll show you how it’s done.” 

“Please,” Fred said, “you’re almost as bad as she is.” 

“Wanna bet?” 

“Sure. I like my odds.” 

Joe was about to retort with the stakes of their bet when Sam interrupted, “Hey, isn’t that Anna?” 

“Your sister?” Izzy perked up and looked over to where Sam was pointing. “When did she get here?” 

Joe glanced at Anna out of the corner of his eye. She sat alone at a table on the far end of the room. Her back was turned to them, but Joe recognized her spiky hair and pastel sweater. 

Fred placed his chin in his hands. “Didn’t your mom say she was at a birthday party or something? What’s she doing here?” 

“You think she got kicked out again?” Sam asked. 

Izzy frowned, concerned. “We should invite her over to hang out with us.” 

Joe sipped from his soda. “Nah, I’m sure she’s fine. Ignore her and she won’t bother us.” 

“Are you sure?” she insisted. “I wouldn’t want her to be— oh, cute! You didn’t tell me she has a boyfriend.” 

“She doesn’t.” 

Izzy pointed behind him. “Then who’s that guy?” 

Joe turned. A boy with dark spiky hair, a ripped shirt from that rock band Anna liked, and baggy black jeans with enough chains to tie Anna to a railroad track walked to the table carrying two plates of pizza. He slid into the seat next to Anna and kissed her on the cheek. 

Joe practically did a spit take in Sam’s direction.   

Sam jumped back. “Ah! Disgusting!” 

Joe put his fingers to his lips. “Shh!” 

“Hey, don’t shush me—” 

“ _Shh_!” 

Sam looked incredulously at Fred. “He did it again.” 

Joe glared at the two across the room. “Since when did she have a _boyfriend?_ ” 

“Your sister has a boyfriend. Big deal,” Fred said. “So, are we gonna do this thing or—” 

Joe was already halfway down the restaurant, sneaking up on Anna and the mystery guy, occasionally hiding underneath tables and behind the Grecian columns when it looked like they were going to glance in his direction. He crouched behind the both the two shared and motioned for the three of them to join them. 

Sam groaned. “Are we really going follow him?” 

Evidently, yes. The three of the followed Joe to where he was hiding—not even bothering to sneak— and squatted next to him. 

“You know,” Fred whispered, “stalking your sister was _exactly_ how I wanted to spend my Saturday.” 

“Isn’t this a breach of Anna’s privacy?” Sam asked. 

“Please! All the times she’s breached my privacy?” 

Anna was always spying on him or had her nose in his business. 

“I’m not sure about this Joe,” Izzy said. 

“I just want to check this guy out—” 

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” a voice said above them, “but you know we can hear you, right?” 

The four of them looked in the direction of the voice. The mystery guy and Anna looked down on them; him with a confused expression, her with a look of fear and annoyance. 

Izzy waved. “Hello.” 

Anna sneered at them. “What are you _doing?_ ” 

“We’re being awful ninjas,” Fred said. 

Joe stood and crossed his arms. “What do you think you’re up to?” 

“Minding our own business.” Anna took a sip of her soda. “Maybe you should take a cue.” 

Joe ignored Fred laughing next to him, and said, “You’re gonna be in so much trouble when we get home.” 

“What’s with the angry dad routine?” Sam whispered to Fred and Izzy. 

Joe rolled his eyes and was ready to refute Sam’s claim, when Anna said, “Can’t you leave us alone and give us since privacy?” 

“I’m surprised you even know what that word means.” 

Izzy put her hand on Joe’s arm. “C’mon. Let’s leave them alone.” 

“Yeah, Joe,” Fred chimed in. “We still got pinball to play.” 

The boy’s face lit up. “Oh, _you’re_ the Joe I hear so much about.” 

Anna blushed and nudged him. “Matty…” 

Joe’s eye twitched. _Matty?_

_Matty_ held out his hand to Joe and smiled. “Matthew Garcia. Nice to meet you. Anna’s told me a lot about…” 

Joe glowered at him. 

Sweat dripped down Matthew’s temple. “Uhhh…” 

Izzy jumped in and shook his hand. “Hi Matthew, I’m Izzy. Ignore Joe, he’s cranky.” 

“Hey!” Joe protested. 

“Hi, Izzy. Why is your boyfriend so upset?” 

She kept smiling but there was a blank look on her face like Mathew asked her a question in Spanish. “My _wha…?_ ” 

Joe stepped forward. “She’s not my girlfriend and we’re going home. Come on, Anna.” 

“You can’t just make me go home!” Anna said. 

~*~ 

As soon as they were home, Joe busted Anna to their parents. 

Izzy sat with Fred and Sam in Joe’s room while the two played some fantasy RPG video game they were engrossed in. As she watched them play, she couldn’t help but eavesdrop, picking up parts of Joe and Anna’s shouting match from the kitchen downstairs. 

“This is so unfair,” Anna whined. “My life is none of your beeswax! 

“You’re way too young to date, Anna,” Joe said. 

“You’re not the boss of me! Besides, he was on a date, too.” 

“Again, Izzy’s not my girlfriend! And even if she was out wouldn’t change anything.” 

Izzy spun her earrings. “So, is this awkward, right? Am I’m reading this situation correctly?” 

Fred didn’t peel his eyes from the screen. “Pretty much.” 

Izzy felt somewhat responsible for this situation. If she hadn’t pointed out Matthew at the restaurant, then Joe wouldn’t have ruined their date. She didn’t get what he was so upset about. Granted, she would probably be protective of her younger sibling if she had one, but Matthew seemed nice enough, sweet even. 

“I feel bad.” 

“Don’t. They fight all the time. Wish they didn’t fight in the kitchen, though.” 

Sam sighed. “Why don’t you carry snacks with you wherever you go?” 

“Uh, because I _eat_ them?” 

“We should help them out,” Izzy said. “Siblings shouldn’t fight.” 

Fred snorted. “Spoken like an only child.” 

“How do you plan to do that anyway?” Sam asked. 

Izzy wasn’t sure. She never had to be a moderator between two parties. She looked at the door, wishing there was something she could do to fix this situation. 

~*~ 

“I bet you’re just mad I’m dating before you are!” 

Joe’s ears burned at Anna’s accusation. “That’s ridiculous! I—” 

“Kids. That’s enough.” 

The sound of their father’s powerful voice was enough to get the two to stop arguing. They both simultaneously straighten and turned to face their parent. 

The four of them were sitting around the kitchen table at their parent’s request. They sat across from them, with Anna scooted away from him. 

“Joe,” his mother said. “We understand you’re worried about Anna, and your father and I can’t be happier that you’re concerned for her safety—” 

Anna blew out an exasperated breath. 

“—but we can handle her.” 

“Yeah, Joe!” 

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, young lady,” Dad said. “You’re still in trouble for not telling us about your boyfriend.” 

Anna sulked in her chair. “Oh.” 

Joe stopped himself from smirking if only because he knew if he did, he’d get _that look_ from his mom. 

“Your mother and I need to discuss whether we should let you continue seeing this Matthew boy or not—” 

“What? But Dad, I—” 

“And you’re grounded for a week for not telling us,” Mom finished. 

Anna’s mouth hung open like she was in shocked, but nodded, sulking further into her seat. 

At that, their parents kicked them out of the kitchen so they could talk. Once they were far enough away in the living room that their conversation was muffled, Anna spun on him, glowering at him so fiercely he stopped dead in his tracks. 

“I know you’re jealous of me. It’s sad.” 

“Tch. Get real. What’s to be jealous of? Your stuffed animal collection or your knowledge of celebrity birthdays?” 

“It’s true! I get a boyfriend before you get a girlfriend. I get better grades than you do. I’m better at using _The Book_ than you are—” 

“Whoa! First of all, no you’re not—” 

“I am! And I know you hate me for it. You hate me for _everything_.” 

Joe froze, stunned silent. 

She hugged herself and murmured, “The _one_ time you pay attention to me and you go and ruin _everything_.” 

“Anna, I don’t—” 

“Stay out of my business and leave me alone, okay?” 

Joe watched as she stormed up the stairs to her room, too stunned to move. 

Anna thought he hated her? 

Sure, he was being kind of tough on her, but only because he was worried about her. Didn’t Anna see that? It had to be more to it. 

He thought about what she said about _The Book_. Admittedly, she _was_ better at using it. Whenever she took it (without asking, of course. She never asked.) she’d would rarely, if ever, have trouble warping and she never lost it. It was his _Book_ , but of course, she had to be better at using it than he was. 

Joe kept _The Book_ away from her whenever he could and would only begrudgingly bring her along with them on their warps if they were seeing the girls. Joe would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous, but he never considered how it would affect how he treated her. 

It wasn’t just _The Book_ , now that he was thinking about it. He ignored her a lot and would exclude her from activities when Sam and Fred were over. Joe acted like he never wanted her to be around. 

Of course Anna thought he hated her. 

Joe rubbed his hands over his face and fell against the living room wall. He slid to the floor and when he looked back up, there was Izzy, standing frozen like a statue mid-step in a spot previously behind him and staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. 

His face heated. “Were you—” 

“I swear, I was coming back from the bathroom and I saw you two arguing and I froze and I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I’m sorry!” 

Her words ran together so fast, in another situation it would’ve been funny, but Joe just groaned and covered his face again, too embarrassed to look at her. 

“Joe,” Izzy said softly, the wood creaking underneath her feet as she crept closer and knelt in front of him. “I’m sorry. Are you… are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” Joe flattened out imaginary wrinkles in his jeans, avoiding eye contact with her. “I’m perfectly fine.” 

“I see. This is your fine face, not your pouty face?” 

“So what if it is?” 

Izzy flinched and stared at the ground. He felt like a bigger jerk for snapping at her; yelling at Izzy was sort of like yelling at a bunny. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Joe sighed. “This whole thing with Anna is kind of upsetting.” 

“Why?” 

“She’s only thirteen and she’s dating some... well, you saw him!” 

“He seemed nice,” she said. “You can’t judge someone completely by their looks.” 

Joe rubbed the back of his neck. “I know, I know.” 

“Maybe you should go talk to her.” 

“Yeah, right. You saw how it went last time.” 

“I mean with a nicer approach. Don’t go for the ‘Angry Dad’ approach.” 

“Ha ha.” 

Izzy nudged him. “I’m serious. If you handle this now, you’ll feel a lot better. I can even go with you if you want, for emotional support.” 

She smiled reassuringly at Joe as he considered it. Despite everything, he did want to make amends. Izzy was a girl after all. Maybe she’d be a good mediator between the two. 

“Alright.” 

Joe trudged up the stair with Izzy in tow and stopped in front of Anna’s door. He reached to knock on the ajar door and hesitated. He looked to Izzy who gave him an encouraging smile. He knocked softly on the pink door. “Hey, Anna?” 

No response. He knocked again, harder this time. 

The door slowly swung open, revealing the room and Anna, who was sitting on her bed, flipping through pages of _The Book._

Joe marched in, forgetting all about Izzy and his plans to apologize. “What are you doing?!” 

Anna jumped and looked at them, staring at Joe like a toddler who was caught stealing cookies. “Oh, fart.” 

“How did you steal _The Book_. Fred and Sam were in the room.” 

“Oh, please. You know how they get when they play—hey!” 

Joe grabbed _The Book_ and tried to yank it out of her hands. “You have no right to be in my business!” 

Anna pulled back on it. “You’re such a hypocrite! Besides, I’m trying to prove a point!” 

They jerked _The Book_ back and forth like a game of tug-o-war, trying to pull it out of the other’s hands. 

Izzy unfroze herself from underneath the threshold and darted over to them. “Don’t fight, you two! We can—” 

With a final tug, Joe wrenched _The Book_ out of Anna’s hands and whacked Izzy in the face. Immediately, green mist pooled out of _The Book_ entangling all three of them. 

Anna’s scowl was visible past the fog. “Great! Look what you—” 

And midsentence, the three of them were tossed through time. 

~*~ 

The three of them landed on a speckled linoleum floor with a thud and an oof. Joe sat up and took a quick look around to make no one was trying to kill them in that instant. They were in a hallway across from bathrooms and a snack machine on one end. Classical music played overhead. There was a soft din of conversation from the other end of the hall turned off to the left leading to somewhere. 

Where the heck where they? Did Anna mean to warp them to some random hallway? 

He scowled at Anna as she stood. “Congrats, Anna. You sure proved you're better with _The Book_ than me.” 

She brushed some dust off her pants then put her hands on her hips. “How is this my fault? You were yanking _The Book_ out of my hands!” 

“Because it’s _my Book_!” 

“ _Ugh_ …” 

They both turned to see Izzy cupping her eye where Joe hit her, a pained look on her face. 

“Izzy!” Joe cried. He completely forgot all about her, even after he hit her in the face. Joe helped her to the bench against the wall, ignoring Anna rolling her eyes. She mumbled something about going to the bathroom and left before Joe could say anything. 

Joe turned back to Izzy. “I’m sorry I hit you.” 

“It’s okay.” She forced an unconvincing smile. “You didn’t do it on purpose, and besides it doesn’t hurt that bad.” 

It looked like it hurt that bad. There was a small bruise forming around her eye and she was squinting a bit. 

“We should probably find you some ice or something.” 

“Is there ice here?” 

“I don’t even know where ‘here’ is.” Joe sighed and grumbled, “We wouldn’t even be here if you didn’t insist I say sorry.” 

Izzy’s shoulders droop and she looked at the floor. “You’re right and I’m sorry, but I wanted to help. I hated to see you two fight.” 

Joe softened begrudgingly. While he was still kind of upset at her, he also appreciated her efforts and the fact she cared enough to try. Before he could tell her so, Anna was back. She handed Izzy a wrapped ice cream sandwich. 

“I got it for your eye,” she explained. “And a snack for later.” 

Izzy looked at her, surprised but clearly grateful. “Thank you, Anna.” 

Anna flashed her a grin. “Don’t mention it. Now, let’s find _The Book_ and get out of here.” 

“Where is _here_ , anyway?” Joe asked. 

Izzy shrugged. “One way to find out.” 

The three of them walked to the end of the hallway until they came across a set of elevators, both with a down button. They agreed to go down it, starting at the bottom and working their way up if need be. 

Anna nonchalantly glanced at Izzy as she punched the button. “So, Izzy, do you have any annoying siblings you wished would stay out of your business?” 

Joe scoffed. “Really?” 

“I’m an only child,” Izzy said. 

“Must be nice.” Anna shot him a look. 

“I don’t know. It’d be nice to have some company when my dad’s away instead of just me and my rabbits.” 

“What about your mom?” 

“She’s dead.” 

Izzy’s eyes were distant and a little watery. Joe already knew, of course, but he still never knew how to respond when it was brought up. Izzy would probably deny it, but it made him feel like a crummy friend. 

“How’d she die?” Anna asked. 

“Seriously?” Joe hissed. 

“What? I was just asking.” She turned to Izzy. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” 

“It’s okay.” 

She clenched her trembling free hand. “She… she died in a car accident when I was eleven.” 

The elevator dinged and they went in awkward silence. Joe hit the button for the first floor, unable to think of what to say other than a lame, “I’m sorry.” 

Izzy nodded absently like she didn’t really hear him. “Afterwards I was upset, I was devastated, but I remember my dad being a complete wreck when it happened. He disappeared the first time for two months.” 

Joe frowned. “He just left you by yourself?” 

“No, there was a lady taking care of me. I called her Aunty Em but she wasn’t really my aunt. I don’t know who she was. My dad was an orphan and my mom’s parents disowned her for practicing magic, so I don’t know them.” 

Anna winced. “Harsh.” 

“Who was aunty Em?” Joe asked. 

“I don’t know. A friend of his, I guess, but I haven’t seen her before or since. And when I ask him, he dodges the subject.” 

Anna held up a hand. “Wait, you said that was the _first_ time he disappeared? It happened again after that?” 

Izzy tensed like the question caught her off guard. She spun her earrings around and stared at the ground as if searching for something to say. 

“…no,” she said slowly, then with forced assurance, “no, he hasn’t done it since.” 

There was something she was hiding, but before either Joe or Anna could answer, the elevator dinged and opened. Izzy was the first one out. 

Joe glanced at Anna and caught the look on her face. She noticed something was off, too, but wasn’t saying anything. 

The two of them followed her out of the elevator and took in their surroundings. 

Joe didn’t know where they warped to, but he wasn’t expecting to be looking at a huge glass wall at the end of a large room that overlooked parks and vaguely recognizable buildings. A spiral staircase in the center of the building led up to a third story floor. To the furthest left corner of the room was a gift shop, but everywhere else was art. 

An abundance of paintings and sculptures of all various sizes, shapes, and colors surrounded them in every direction. It was almost overwhelming. Small clusters of people—a group of elderly people being led by a tour guide, a horde of middle schoolers in familiar maroon and gold uniforms gathered around the entrance, a few couples both with and without small children—gathered on every level to appreciate the art on display. 

“Huh,” was Joe’s reaction. “We’re at some art museum. At least we’re in a place where no one will want to kill us.” 

Izzy grinned and bounced around like a kid in the candy store. “I know this place! My parents took me here for my eleventh birthday. They had this beautiful sculpture made out of all these semiprecious stones and I—” 

“Oh no…” Anna whined and pulled them by the arm under the staircase. 

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked. 

“It’s me.” 

Joe was half tempted to say something slick, but the desire was squashed by the worried look on Anna’s face. She peeked behind the staircase at whatever they were hiding from and swore. 

Joe and Izzy gave each other a confused glance and looked to see what she was so nervous about. 

Izzy gasped. “Is that—” 

“It’s you!” Joe whipped his head back at Anna. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” 

Among the crowd of middle schoolers, there was Anna, looking over the crowd of her peers as if searching for someone. 

Anna moaned. “Why _this_ day?” 

“What’s wrong with this day?” Joe asked. “Did something happen?” 

Her face went red. Anna crossed her arms and glowered at him, seemingly for no reason. “Let’s just not cross my path, okay?” 

Joe wanted to ask her what her problem was, but he didn’t want to add that on top of their previous argument. He sighed. “Alright. It’s better if we don’t risk running into you.” 

Her shoulders slouched, and she seemed to relax. “Right. So what’s the plan?” 

“We should split up. We’ll find _The Book_ a lot faster that way.” 

Anna snorted. “Split up? It’s not Scooby Doo. I say we stick together.” 

Joe clenched his jaw. “Why ask me the plan if you’re gonna come up with your _own_ plan?” 

“Why come up with a lame plan?” 

Izzy stepped between the two of them, raising her hand not holding the ice cream bar up in surrender. “Why don’t we try it both ways?” 

The two of them stopped glaring at each other and looked at her. She gulped and smiled weakly. 

“We can start looking for _The Book_ split up, then if we can’t find anything in twenty minutes, we’ll look together? Or, um…” 

This was obviously a worse plan, and Joe could tell she knew that, too, just by looking at her, but Anna huffed and said, “Fine,” before heading towards the gift shop and keeping her face away from her past self. 

And with that, the three of them went their separate ways in search for _The Book_.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who uploaded! Haha.  
> October 31 is a special day for Izzy so I either wanted to post some art or a chapter, so that was a pretty good motivator to get this done. Hope you all enjoy it :)

Izzy wondered what was the of “so far so good” was because she had no luck finding _The Book_. 

To be fair, she wasn’t completely focused on her mission one hundred percent, despite her best efforts. 

She was distracted by all the art around her. Everything was different and new from the last time she was there. It was of mish-mosh of everything with no discernable theme. New paintings from abstract to surrealism to graffiti; paintings in watercolor and oil. New sculptors made of marble and glass. 

The sculpture made of semiprecious stones wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She was disappointed, but at the same, would seeing it dig up bad memories for her? She tried not to think about it too much. 

Her favorite piece was an eight-foot-tall gold and faux ebony statue of an Egyptian goddess. It had the lovely facial features of Nefertiti and the long black braids and gold snake headpiece most artists give to Cleopatra. The arms were raised as if she were welcoming someone in for a hug. Attached to her arms were colorful feathered wings of blue, gold, and scarlet. 

Around her neck was an amulet, the knot of Isis. Izzy remembered her mom telling her it was called a tyet. 

Izzy gawked up at it, trying to determine if the gold was gold-plated or paint when ice crawled up her spine. She shuddered and looked around her. 

On the other side of the room a man in a gray jumpsuit and a cap stood still as a statue instead of milling around the room like the other patrons. Izzy figured he might have been a janitor. His head was lowered so the bill of his cap covered his face, but she could see his right eye scan the room as if keeping an eye on everyone. 

His right eye fixed on her for a moment and narrowed. Izzy froze under his cold glare. There was something… horribly familiar about his glower that made her skin crawl, but as soon as it happened, the man’s look was directed somewhere else. 

Izzy rubbed the goosebumps on her arm with her free hand. 

“You cold?” 

“Yah!” Izzy flinched. The ice cream sandwich jumped out of her hand. 

Anna stood in front of her, laughing behind her hand. When did she get there? 

“Sorry, sorry.” Anna picked up the ice cream sandwich. “You should’ve seen your face.” 

Izzy rubbed the back of her head, her cheeks warm. “Anna! Hey! Have you, uh, found _The Book_ yet?” 

Anna handed her the sweating ice cream sandwich and sighed. “No, unfortunately. I checked the lost and found, the restrooms, even the men’s one.” As she spoke, she ticked off each place on a finger. 

“Y-you went into the _boys’_ bathroom?” 

Anna waved away Izzy’s concern. “Relax. It was empty. It’s not like I was gonna barge in if some dude was in there.” 

Izzy just looked at her. Even if the restroom was empty, Izzy wouldn’t risk getting odd looks from strangers or called out by someone who caught her sneaking in, but Anna didn’t seem to care what strangers thought of her. 

An awkward beat passed between them before Izzy cleared her throat and said, “Thanks again for the ice cream sandwich for my eye.” 

Anna played with the hem of her sweatshirt. Her playful smile turned embarrassed. “Well, it is _kiiiiinda_ my fault Joe hit you in the face. I should’ve given _The Book_ back to him, but I just wanted to stick it to him. He can be so… ugh! Y’know?” 

“He doesn’t mean to be. He, uh…” Izzy didn’t know whether she should share what Joe shared with her in private. Would it help or make things worse? She already caused enough problems for them. 

Anna huffed and crossed her arms. “Pfft. He’s always like this. I know he doesn’t want me around. I don’t care.” Her eyes were far away and sad. She blinked the look away. “I think he’s just mad girls are better at using _The Book_ than boys are.” 

“Yeah?” Izzy remembered Joe complaining how annoying it was how Anna was better with _The Book_ in passing, but that didn’t have anything to do with why he was upset. 

“Yeah, all the woman in my family are better with it,” Anna continued. “Magic, too, but for whatever reason, they don’t want to show it off. I think it’s because they don’t want to hurt the men’s egos but I think that’s just stupid. If you’re good at something why hide it?” 

Izzy wanted to assure Anna that Joe didn’t hate her. If he did, he wouldn’t have tried to make amends with her (even if it _did_ go up in smoke). She decided to bite her tongue for the moment and go along with where Anna sidetracked the conversation. 

“I think you’re right,” she said. “Talent should be celebrated, not hidden.” 

Anna beamed. “Exactly! Thank you! Jodie says that, too, but it’s nice to hear someone else say it for a change.” 

Before Izzy could ask who Jodie was, Anna yelped and spun Izzy around so she was shielded from the approaching crowd. 

A gaggle of middle schoolers passed by them. They chatted with their friends, laughing, and pushing each other around, not even looking Izzy’s way. Izzy spotted Anna-from-the-past towards the back of the group engrossed in a conversation with a dark-haired boy she recognized as Matthew. He laughed at something she said as the two of them passed by her without a second glance. 

When they were out of sight, Anna stepped from behind Izzy and sighed. “This is going to be sooooo annoying, having to avoid _myself_.” 

“I guess we better hurry up and find _The Book_ then.” 

Izzy and Anna looked for _The Book_ together for the next couple of minutes. For a moment, they thought they spotted _The Book_ in the hands of a wooden statue, but upon closer inspection, it was a blue prop book. 

Hunting down _The Book_ was a chore to get through, but at least they were somewhere safe and weren’t dealing with a power hungry, homicidal maniac again. 

The two talked about books and their pets as they searched. Izzy didn’t read any of the books Anna liked but they both had the same taste in comics. Anna had an old, fluffy Persian cat named Cleo, and Izzy told her about her two bunnies: her dwarf hotot, Dini and a Netherlands dwarf named Bess. 

When Izzy mentioned her favorite band, Anna stopped dead her tracks and whirled to face her. 

“Wait! You like Laced with Arsenic, too? I’ve never met another person who does. Well, except for Matthew, but he doesn’t count. He likes everything.” 

“No one likes _everything_.” 

“Matty does. Think of the most obscure, random genre and I bet you he already has two CDs of it, at least.” 

Izzy rubbed her chin in thought before saying, “Neo-Caribbean crunkcore?” 

“He loves it.” 

“How? I just made it up!” 

“It’s totally real, I can prove it! When we get back home, I’ll let you borrow the CD Matthew gave me.” 

“Thanks. I can let you borrow my deluxe album of _The Frills of Death_ if you want?” 

Anna grinned. “You’re pretty cool, Izzy. Don’t know why you’re friends with Joe.” 

“Oh! Speaking of whom…” 

She motioned behind Anna. Joe walked towards them from the other end of the room. Izzy waved to get his attention. “Guess we should start working together. Anna, do you—” 

She turned to see Anna had completely disappeared, a blinking white outline of where she was a moment before. She vanished so suddenly, Izzy thought she had to be some sort of magician or some sort of Batman. 

“What the wha?” 

“You talking to yourself?” 

Joe stood smiling behind her, eyebrows raised. “I’m guessing you didn’t have any luck either?” 

Izzy shook her head and jabbed a thumb at the stairs. “Second floor?” 

Together, they ventured up the spiral plexiglass stairs. Along the steps and walls of the stairs, there were drawings done by visiting children; dozens and dozens of little marker doodles covered every inch. 

A couple held the hands of their child in between them headed downstairs as a group of Anna’s schoolmates passed Joe and Izzy on their way up. 

Izzy lagged little behind Joe, trailing her hand along the smooth plastic railing. She thought about what Anna said earlier. Anna thought Joe hated her. She thought he didn’t want her around. She tried to play it off but it was obvious it bothered her. Anna might not have cared what strangers thought of her but she cared what Joe thought. Izzy couldn’t help but feel bad for her. 

Izzy didn’t know whether or not to tell Joe. Should she keep her mouth shut? The last time she tried to help, they ended up warping here and losing _The Book_. She probably shouldn’t interfere again but this seemed too important to let go. 

She sighed and took the melting ice cream sandwich off her face. She wished her dad was around so she could ask him what the right thing was to do. Of course, even if he hadn’t left she couldn’t exactly ask him now, but he was always her go-to when she didn’t know how to handle a difficult problem, social or otherwise. Him and her mom her social butterflies. They knew how to handle people. Izzy wondered if the ability skipped a generation, like her mom’s cat allergies. 

Thinking of her parents made her remember how long her dad’s been gone. He should’ve been back; it’s been three weeks. Asking Joe to borrow _The Book_ to find her dad crossed her mind again. 

Joe was meant to protect her. Despite their last warp, she was still alive, so he was doing his job whether he knew it or not. She was happy she not only found her protector but a friend as well. Still, she should have heard back from her dad by now. 

She pushed the thought away. There was no use in asking now when they didn’t even know where _The Book_ was. 

At this point, should she come out to her friends about the truth? She did trust them, and her father didn’t tell her to _not_ tell anyone in the letter he left. But at the same time, she hesitated. How would they react? Her situation wasn’t exactly normal. 

Another deep sigh as she peeled open the ice cream sandwich wrapper. She couldn’t think about that now. It wouldn’t help them find _The Book_. 

Joe looked back at her, his brow furrowed in worry. He looked like he wanted to ask her what was wrong. 

Izzy forced a smiled and held up the ice cream sandwich. “Wanna bite?” 

“And risk catching your cooties?” 

“I would’ve given you the other end, _buuuuut_ now it’s too late.” She took a bite out of the ice cream sandwich and recoiled from the cold hitting her teeth. “Uhn!” 

Joe laughed and Izzy grinned. She broke the ice cream sandwich in half and handed him the part still in the wrapping. 

The second floor was smaller than the ground floor. A four-foot border wrapped around the floor so Izzy could look down and see the floor beneath her. 

More school kids walked around. Some laughed at the nude paintings and snapped pictures on their phones, others dutifully filled out their worksheets and rolled their eyes at the kids goofing around. The juxtaposition reminded her of Fred and Sam. 

There were more pieces Izzy recognized on this floor. Unlike the first floor where everything was on one spacious floor, this floor had entrances connecting off the main floor that went into separate rooms, their themes on a plaque above the threshold. 

They checked behind podiums and benches, coming up empty. They garnered a few weird looks from patrons and security guards, but no one otherwise said anything. 

Izzy didn’t see _the_ sculpture. Maybe it got moved to a different museum, or put in a private collection? 

When they had no luck on the second floor they went to the third. It had a similar layout to the second floor, but with exhibits Izzy guessed she could describe as… “quirky.” The stuff up here wasn’t as appealing as the art on the other floors, which might explain why this floor wasn’t as busy as the others. 

There was a giant exhibit of a half-melted stick of butter in the wrapper, a huge fishbowl full of green marbles, a painting of ducks with giant kazoos for heads. Izzy could have spent sixty years staring at the last one if Joe wasn’t there to drag her away. 

“With our luck,” Joe said, “ _The Book’s_ gonna be tucked in the corner somewhere behind rope barriers because someone thought it was an art piece.” 

Izzy chuckled. “It _is_ very pretty.” 

He grimaced at a painting of smoking chickens with human teeth. “This floor is… weird.” 

“It’s not weird. It’s _interesting_ … Not the kind of thing I’d make but it’s definitely intriguing.” 

“That’s one word for it.” Joe turned to her. “So what would _you_ make?” 

She thought about it for a moment. There were a lot of different things she liked to make, several experimental things she wanted to try. It was hard to think of a straight answer to give Joe a without rambling his ear off. 

“This place used to have a sculpture made of semiprecious gemstones. I don’t remember what it was of, but I remember being completely awestruck with it. It was the prettiest thing I’ve seen at the time, all shiny and glimmery and colorful-y. I wanna make that.” 

“The sculpture?” 

“No. The feeling.” Izzy looked at the floor. “Is that dumb? I bet I sounded dumb there.” 

“That’s not dumb. That’s kind of how I feel about magic. That why I put in way too much thought into some stupid school talent show. I know it’s pretty silly—” 

“It’s not silly at all! You put all this planning and time into making a good show, and I think that’s really cool.” 

He smiled at her and warmth flooded Izzy’s cheeks. Her eyes flickered away for a moment and did a double take when something caught her attention: a dark room across from them. She didn’t need to read the plaque to recognize what was inside. 

“Joe!” She grabbed his arm. “C’mon, I gotta show you something.” 

“Is it _The Book_?” 

“Well, no… but this is cool. It’ll be quick.” 

He relented and let Izzy drag him in into the dim room. When they entered, she clapped excitedly. 

Joe was less than impressed. “You wanted to show me a dark room full of garbage?” 

Izzy wanted to roll her eyes at him, but in all fairness, they were in a room full of garbage. 

Five separate mounds of old shoes, toy blocks, rotary phones, Chinese takeout boxes, and anything else dug out of an abandoned dumpster was purposely stacked and arranged towards the walls. Despite the abundance of trash, the room smelt of flowery air freshener. A light source on the ground illuminated the rubbish and provide the rooms only light source. 

“No! Well, yes. Just look.” 

She brought him over to a table covered in Lincoln logs, empty lighters, soda cans, and a whole bunch of other junk. A silhouette of a modern cityscape made up of recognizable landmarks such and the Empire State Building, the Sydney Opera House, and the Eiffel Tower blended into architecture of the past such as the Pyramids, the Taj Mahal, and Stonehenge was cast against the wall. 

“Whoa! Nice.” Joe admired the shadow on the wall. “Are they all like this?” 

To their left on the same wall, there was the shadow of a ballet dancer in a dynamic pose made up of kitchen utensils, spare Barbie doll parts, old shoes, and other trash. Across from them were more shadow silhouettes. 

They moved towards the wall furthest from the door— a profile silhouette of a man and a woman looking at each other with their arms around each other. Ratty old bras dangled above them from wires on the ceiling, forming doves and hearts. 

The two of them wordlessly admired the piles and piles of trash around them, appreciating how the piles of garbage were recreated into something worthwhile and amazing. 

“How’d they do this?” Joe asked. 

“It’s really, really hard,” Izzy said. “I tried doing it once when I was twelve but my dad just about lost his head when he found I was hoarding garbage in my room.” 

Joe laughed. “How much do you wanna bet that if Anna were here she’d claim to be able to make this with all the junk that may or may not be under my bed?” 

Izzy chuckled, but stopped, remembering why they were there to begin with. She rubbed her arm. “I know I’ve said this before, Joe, but I’m really sorry that I got us into this situation. It upset me to see you and Anna so mad at each other. I don’t have siblings, so I guess that’s normal, but still I wanted to help…” 

She realized she was rambling, sighed, and continued. “Family is important. You never know when or how you’ll lose someone. Sometimes there’s no point in being angry.” 

Joe was silent for a moment. Izzy’s eyes were diverted towards the ground instead of his face. 

He inhaled, about to respond, when there was a chittering of voices near the entrance of the room. A small group of students streamed in followed by Anna and Matthew. Their eyes were on each other, so they didn’t notice Izzy and, more importantly, Joe on the other side of the room. 

Anna and Matthew headed down the center of the room, blocking a straight escape out for Joe and Izzy. They couldn’t leave the room without risking being spotted. 

Joe grabbed Izzy by the arm and pulled her back, whispering, “Hide!” 

“Wha—” 

He whipped the two of them behind the trash sculpture of the couple. Izzy understood his intentions. Joe hid behind the figure of the woman, draping his arms over her shoulder. She hid behind the man, placing her hands on his hips. 

Izzy never noticed how much taller he was than her, not by a whole head, but she had to look up to look him in the eye. 

Matthew and Anna’s voices drew closer until they were right in front of their sculptures. 

“Pretty cool.” Matthew said. “What do you think?” 

“Puh-lease. I could do this with all the junk under Joe’s bed.” 

Izzy snickered. Joe shot her a look and she clamped her mouth shut. 

Mathew laughed. “So… I’ve been thinking…” 

“Yeah?” 

“I, uh, do you, erm…” A sigh and a soft rustle. “Do you have today’s date?” 

A pause before Anna huffed, “January eleventh.” A pause. “Was that really the kind of date you wanted to ask me about?” 

An audible gulp from Matthew. “What kind of date are you talking about?” 

“I dunno, you tell me.” 

“Any chance you’re gonna make this easy for me?” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

Joe gagged. It was Izzy’s turn to shoot him a look. 

Anna and Matthew moved their attention to the exhibit on the next wall as they continued their conversation. Joe and Izzy tiptoed behind them towards the exit. 

“Okay,” Matthew said, his voice growing quieter as the two of them made their way out. “Fine. I’ll say it... Anna, would you like to go out with me?” 

Anna’s smile came through in her voice. “Thought you never ask.” 

As they escaped, Izzy looked behind her into the room they left and caught a final glimpse of Matthew and Anna smiling at each other. “They’re so cute.” 

Joe scoffed. “Yeah, if by ‘cute’ you mean ‘nauseating’ then they’re downright adorable.” 

“No, I meant like—” Izzy detected his sarcasm and rolled her eyes. “They _are_ cute. Why would you wanna break them up?” 

Joe stopped at the railing. He rested his elbows on it and cast his eyes on the floors below. “I didn’t— I _don’t_. It’s just… Anna’s my baby sister, I’m worried about her.” 

“Have you ever told her that?” 

“What? No. I wouldn’t know what to say.” 

“How about,” Izzy cleared her voice and did her best Joe impression, “’You’re my baby sister. I’m worried about you.’” 

Joe pouted. “I do _not_ sound like that! Be serious.” 

“You totally do and I am. Just tell her. She’ll appreciate it, believe me.” 

“Maybe you’re right. I kinda feel like a jerk. Anna might have to break up with him when they barely got to be together.” 

Izzy smiled softly at him. “It still never hurts to apologize, you jerk.” 

Joe chuckled, the tension in his shoulders lessening. “Thanks, Iz.” 

Before she got the chance reply, a brilliant flash of golden light flared from beneath them followed by abrupt silence. Joe backed away from the railing, eyes wide in confusion and fear. 

“What’s wrong?” Izzy looked over the railing and gasped. 

Everyone beneath them on the first floor was frozen, transfixed in place as if they’d all paused mid-action. They were all far too still to have simply stopped moving. Something made them freeze in place. 

No one on the second or third even noticed yet; they went about their business as if everything was normal. The ice in Izzy’s spine return. Dozens of questions came to mind but none escaped her mouth. 

“Anna,” Joe muttered, then said louder, “I gotta find Anna.” 

He took off, but Izzy didn’t see where. She was blinded by a second flash of bright gold light. The people on the second story were all motionless. 

All except one. 

The janitor she saw earlier stomped up the stairs, slow but purposeful. He pulled a small square out of his pocket. It shone like metal but was as thin and flimsy as paper. He flicked his wrist a couple times like he was doing some practice throws. He turned his head and Izzy saw his face clearly for the first time; a young-looking man with a handlebar mustache and— 

Izzy stumbled backwards and clamped her hands over her mouth to keep from shrieking. Her heart hammered against her ribcage. 

She dared to take another glance at his face to make sure she wasn’t having a nightmare. She wasn’t. There was no mistaking the monocle over his left eye. Izzy had no doubt _he_ was the one who was freezing time for whatever reason. 

And he was coming up the stairs. 

She had to find Joe and Anna. She had to keep them away from him. 

Izzy bolted from the railing, scanning the room for any sign of Joe and Anna. She called their names as she scanned the rooms for them. By some miracle, she spotted the two of them together towards the end of the room. 

Izzy glanced over her shoulder. The Monocle Man appeared at the top of the stairs. He flicked the square disk in the air. It glowed gold. 

She sprinted towards them, desperate to get to them before _he_ could. Desperate to protect them. 

“Ieldshay! _Ieldshay_!” 

She flung her hand out at them. A green wave shot from her hand, encasing her friends as the golden light hit her like a blast of desert air. 

~*~ 

Joe dragged Anna away to the closest room, not even bothering to let his eyes adjust from the blinding light. 

“What—” Anna began. 

“Shh!” Joe palmed his eyes and blinked a couple times. He tried to make sense out of what happened. A janitor tossed a metal napkin in the air and now everyone in the room froze in place like they were playing red light, green light. 

Well, everyone except him and Anna. That shield spell or whatever Izzy did protected them from the Janitor’s spell. Unfortunately, she couldn’t save herself from becoming a human statue. 

Anna peered out into the main room. 

“Anna—” 

“Relax. He’s leaving.” 

Joe tentatively looked out of the room. Anna was right. The janitor took one last look at his handiwork before he trudged down the stairs, a grimace on his oddly familiar face. Thankfully, he didn’t notice them. 

“What’s going on?” Anna asked. 

“I don’t know.” 

“What should we do?” 

“I don’t—” 

He was about to say he didn’t know again, but he saw the fear and panic in Anna’s eyes and stopped himself. She was scared and was looking to him for answers. 

“Our best bet is to find _The Book_ ,” Joe said as he paced back and forth, “but we should find out what that guy is up to. Whatever he’s doing, it can’t good. If he comes across _The Book_ before we do then we’re in big trouble, but if we find it before him maybe we can unfreeze time.” 

Anna nodded, her panicky look replaced with cautious determination. “Right, then we can contact the time agents.” 

Joe wrinkled his brow, confused. “There are time agents?” 

“Of course, it’s in _The Book_. Didn’t you know that?” 

“I-I knew that. Of course I did.” 

Anna shook her head. “I’ll roll eyes at you later, but if we’re going to spy on him, then follow my lead.” 

Joe did without a word. He didn’t question or argue her abilities; Anna could spy on people in her sleep from a different room. He followed her out of the room in silence. 

As they made their way towards the stairs, Joe had one last look at Izzy. Her face was contorted in a silent still shot of terror. Joe thought to move her someplace safer, but he knew she was probably safer here like this than where they were going. 

When they got to the railing, Anna told Joe to hide behind it while she peeked over and watched him. After a moment, Joe whispered, “What’s he doing?” 

Anna squatted next to him. “Nothing. He’s just standing around, tapping his foot.” 

“What’s he waiting for?” 

“How should I know?” 

“It was rhetorical.” 

“Oh. Right.” 

They crept down the stairs on their hands and knees. When they got to the second floor, there was another flash of gold light, but this time it didn’t last as long and wasn’t nearly as bright as the others. 

“You are late.” 

Joe stopped. The voice—which he assumed came from the janitor—sounded vaguely familiar. 

“I’m the boss.” A new voice, lower than the janitor’s. “I’m never late.” 

The janitor grumble about his boss’s lack of timeliness as Joe made his way to join Anna to the wall and peered down at the scene beneath them. The janitor crossed his arms as he nagged at his boss: a portly man with a shiny pompadour and a purple button-up shirt with buttons he was severely underutilizing. 

Anna stifled a gasped and hid back down with Joe. She whispered-yelled, “I found _The Book_.” 

“Where?” 

“The statue’s head.” 

Right below them on the head of an Egyptian statue was _The Book_. The statue was in the corner of the room and would’ve been in their blind spots if they looked down from the stairs. Getting it might almost be too easy. 

“Good eye, Anna. Now all I grab do is get it.” 

“How? Did you want me to lower you down by your ankles? The statue is too far down, anything we do would get us noticed.” 

Joe nearly forgot, for all he bragged about his new ability around his friends, he never shared it with Anna. He had to brush his guilt aside. Right now he had a job to do. 

“I have a plan,” he said. “Just don’t freak out when you see it.” 

Anna looked confused but nodded. 

Joe looked over the railing and cautiously raised his hand at _The Book_. Thankfully, the two men were still bickering as he muttered magic words under his breath and _The Book_ rose. 

Anna’s jaw dropped in silent amazement. 

The boss cut the janitor off with a small wave of his hand. “That’s enough squabbling. Just remind me _again_ why you insisted we come to this rinky-dink, twenty-first-century museum.” 

“I told you, _sir_ ,” the janitor said through gritted teeth. “I have intel that there is an art piece here that will one day be priceless.” 

“And how would stealing it before that can happen would benefit us exactly?” 

_The Book_ was already halfway up, just a couple more feet… 

“If it were to go missing _now_ ,” the janitor explained, “it would be worth even more in the future.” 

“And you’re sure we’re in the right year?” The boss looked around the room with a sour expression. “Nothing here seems worth much more than my left sock.” 

“OF COURSE I’M SURE YOU NIT—” 

“ _Relax_ , it was a simple question. Is this that stellar attitude I’ve heard about? The one that got you kicked out of the Warp Academy, Jackie boy?” 

At the mention of the janitor’s nickname, Joe had put two and two together. He could kick himself for not recognizing him sooner. The realization made Joe lose focus on his spell and _The Book_ fell, sailing towards the floor. 

“Do. Not. Call. Me. Jackie. B—” 

_WHAM!_

Joe hid and prayed they didn’t notice him. 

Anna crawled over to him, eyes wide in shock. “Did he just say—” 

“He did,” Joe said. “I just dropped _The Book_ right into Mad Jack’s lap.”


	8. Chapter 8

Joe faced his uncle Jack many times over the last five years and he always appeared the same, aging along with him and the others as time went on. Despite hearing stories about Mad Jack from his uncle Joe about when they were younger, Joe could never picture him as anything but a middle-aged man with an unruly mustache and an unpopped monocle. Seeing him in person, only a couple years older than Joe was now, was jarring, to say the least. 

_The Book_ laid about five feet away from the statue’s feet. Despite the crowd in the room, there was a clear path from it to Mad Jack, so there was no hope he might not have seen it. 

Joe and Anna stared in silent horror as Mad Jack stalked over to _The Book_. He knelt, and picked up _The Book_ with shaky hands. “I can’t believe…” His trademark demented grin spread across his face. 

His boss strolled over and peered at _The Book_ over Mad Jack’s shoulder. “Oh. It’s a… _book_.” He said ‘book’ the way Joe said a French word he didn’t understand. “Woefully archaic things.” 

“This isn’t just any book, Bonefat.” Mad Jack stood, staring at _The Book_ like it was a glass of water in the middle of the Sahara. “It’s _The Book_.” 

His boss was clearly not impressed by the distinction. “Right, my mistake. Now, put down that silly thing and let’s get to work on finding—” 

“What an utter ignoramus you are. This is the most powerful item in the entire space-time continuum!” 

“Is it now?” Bonefat quirked a brow. “You’re certain?” 

“Of course, I’m certain!” 

The two men went back and forth, drowning out Joe and Anna’s whispered conversation. 

“We need a plan,” Joe said. 

Anna rolled her eyes. “Right, because your last plan went _sooo_ well—” 

“You can snark at me all you want later. We gotta distract them.” Joe rubbed his chin in thought. “If I can get _The Book_ away from them, you think you could get it and call the time agents?” 

Anna nodded. “Just tell me the plan.” 

Joe looked back over the railing at Mad Jack and Bonefat, looked at the statue, and got an idea. He briefed Anna on his plan. 

She glanced from him to the statue, a frown on her face. “Are you sure?” 

“If it means getting _The Book_ back. Ready?” 

Anna nodded, and snuck down the stairs as Joe got into position above the statue of the Egyptian goddess. He inwardly apologized to it for what he was about to do. 

Joe had never done what he was about to do before, but he assumed the process was similar enough to levitation. He remembered what Izzy said about channeling the tiggly-wiggly feeling into exerting her will over the world. He raised his hand towards the statue and tried to do the same. 

A green aura slowly enclosed around the head of the statue. It flickered a few times but Joe made it stay in place. A bead of sweat dripped down his temple. 

Below him, Mad Jack and Bonefat continued to talk, not even noticing Anna at the bottom of the steps. 

Bonefat rubbed his chin and regarded _The Book_ with newfound interest. “If it’s really as powerful as you say, Jackie boy, then it should be in the hands of someone who deserves it. Someone like, well, _me_ obviously.” 

Mad Jack laughed as he flipped through the pages of _The Book_. “Do you _really_ think someone like you could ever— hey! Let go!” 

Bonefat grabbed _The Book_ and tried to take it out of Mad Jack’s hands. Mad Jack held on fast, his knuckles pale from the vice grip. 

The green aura surrounded the entire statue. Joe moved his arms forwards and back, and the statue followed his movements, rocking side to side. 

“Stop pulling on _The Book!_ ” Mad Jack shouted. “You don’t—” 

With a final shove, the statue toppled forward, set to fall on top of them. As Joe had hoped, the two men noticed in time and leapt out of the way. _The Book_ was thrown aside in their panic and slid to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. 

The statue smashed onto the ground, wood splintering in several directions. 

Anna took her chance. She snuck out and scooped up _The Book_ while the two men where dazed. She was three steps up when Bonefat grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around. Anna yelped. 

“Little girl,” he chided, “it’s not polite to steal from me.” 

Anna tried to pry herself from his grasp “It doesn’t belong to you!” 

Joe ran down the stairs to help her. 

A blast of green light launched Bonefat into the air. He crashed into the gift shop, taking down a rack of t-shirts with him on his way to the ground. 

“Nor to _you_ , little girl.” Mad Jack brandished the amulet from the statue’s neck like a weapon. Smoke curled off the gold symbol. “Give me my _Book!_ ” 

They amulet glowed bright green, magical energy sparking around it like a Tesla coil. 

“Anna!” Joe cried. 

“Joe!” 

She hurled _The Book_ as hard as she could to him. He caught it easily with the use of magic. 

Mad Jack’s head snapped towards Joe, Anna no longer in his sights now that he had _The Book_. 

Joe barely noticed Mad Jack’s look of utter befuddlement as he fled up the stairs. He furiously flipped through _The Book_ , finding pages for time acrobats and time antagonists, but no time agents. 

He reached the third floor with a heavy step and nearly tripped on his own momentum. Joe paced through the room, weaving through the frozen crowd and practically tearing through _The Book_ for any sign of time agents. He noticed Izzy up ahead of him when a ding from the elevator made Joe jump out of his skin. 

Mad Jack sauntered out of the hallway, gripping Anna by the back of her sweater. He pushed her forward, earning a grunt from her. He smiled sardonically. 

“Look who I got,” he said in a sing-song voice. 

“Anna!” Joe race towards them. 

Mad Jack raised the glowing amulet to Anna’s head. “Not another step, boy.” 

Joe slid to a stop. He glared at Mad Jack to no effect. 

“I don’t know who you brats are,” Mad Jack said. “Maybe you’re medaling relatives, maybe your annoying time warpers. I don’t exactly know or particularly care. But what I _do_ know is that you have something that belongs to me. Now hand it over before I vaporize her into a million little particles!” 

He shoved amulet in Anna’s temple. She whimpered. 

Joe’s throat tightened, helplessness washing over him. He could kick himself for leaving her alone with him. “Don’t hurt her.” 

“I won’t. As long as you do as you’re told.” 

Joe mind spun frantically as he tried to come up with another idea. Nothing came. There was no way he could save Anna _and_ keep _The Book_ out of Mad Jack’s hands. It came down to saving his annoying kid sister or protecting the space-time continuum from a madman who wanted to control it. 

“Here. Take it.” Joe tossed _The Book_ to the side. It skidded on the tile until it hit Izzy’s foot and bounced a couple feet away. 

Mad Jack smirked triumphantly. He shoved Anna to the floor and went over to _The Book_. 

Joe ran to Anna and helped her up. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” she said, “but...” 

She didn’t need to finish her sentence for Joe to get what she meant. They were fine for the moment, but the second Mad Jack got his hands on _The Book_ … well, they’d be a little less than fine. 

Mad Jack trembled with excitement as he bent down to pick _The Book_ up. “At long last I—” 

Green lighting arced from Izzy’s head and Mad Jack flew backwards a couple feet, crying out in pain. 

Joe and Anna stood there, equally stunned. Green electricity buzzed around Izzy’s head, or more specifically, her hourglass earrings. 

Mad Jack paid no attention to her, however, his attention solely focused on _The Book_. He gaped in confusion. “Wha… what’s going on—AH!” 

He reached for it again. Green bolts of pure magic zapped him. He tried again, another painful shock. Joe was watching the definition of insanity play out in front of him in real time and it was pretty… insane. 

Mad Jack stood and shot daggers at the two of them. Smoke curled off his janitor’s uniform. “What did you do?” 

Joe stepped in front of Anna. “We didn’t do anything!” 

Mad Jack pointed the amulet at them. A blast of energy annihilated the wall behind them. Plaster and debris rained down. 

“My patience has reached its end!” he spat. 

He pointed at them again. They dove out of the way in opposite directions just as another shot of magic scorched the spot where they previously stood. 

Anna ran to the fishbowl of marbles and knocked it over, spilling them all over the floor to create a sea separating them from Mad Jack. 

Mad Jack’s laugh was punctuated by the fishbowl bouncing along the ground. “Really child? You think a juvenile prank can stop me from—” 

He stepped towards them and slipped. He landed on his back with a thud. 

Anna raced towards _The Book_. Mad Jack let loose a bolt of magic at her. She smacked into a wall and crumpled in a heap on the floor. 

Joe’s heart sunk. “Anna!” 

Fear and rage bubbled in his body. He levitated the fishbowl onto Mad Jacks head. With a flourish of his arms, it spun around like a spinning top. Joe smirked as Mad Jack yelped and fell on his butt. 

Behind Mad Jack, Anna crawled towards _The Book_. Joe breathed a sigh of relief. 

Mad Jack shouted. The fishbowl glowed bright green and shattered into a hundred shards flying in every direction. Joe shielded his face with his arms, flinching when glass stung at him. 

Mad Jack’s monocle popped out of place and dangled against his face. He fixed a glare on Joe. “Do you think you’re clever, boy?” 

“Oh, you know,” Joe said, “only on days that end in ‘y’” 

Mad Jack got madder. Good. Joe had to keep Mad Jack away from Anna, buy her time to get _The Book_ and get help. 

Joe ducked under another blast aimed at his face and ran. He zigzagged through frozen people and towards less populated sections of the room. He didn’t want Mad Jack to hurt any innocent bystander when he was his target. 

He threw more taunts Mad Jack’s way and dodged spell after spell meant to hit him. With each blast, Mad Jack lost accuracy and became more irate. 

The amulet Mad Jack was using finally melted into a congealed lump. He threw it to the side. “ _Enough!_ ” 

Joe froze, but not voluntarily. Green energy pulsed around his body. A thousand tiny needles pricked at his skin. He tried to move an arm. A leg. Nothing. He was paralyzed. The only thing he could manage to move was his eyes. 

Mad Jack walked into his line a vision. He raised his hand and Joe went weightless, hovering over the ground until he was suspended over the railing. His head spun. Best-case scenario, dropping from that height would break all his bones. 

Mad Jack grinned at him, wide and manic like he was going to enjoy making a Joe pancake on the floor. “I cannot begin to tell you how much I hate having my time wasted, but since I’m about to acquire, well, _all of it_ , I’ll let you go with a warning.” He laughed. “No, I think I’ll just jet you g—” 

He stiffened and tensed up, his eyes bulging and tongue lolling out of his mouth. He collapsed, and the spell on Joe flickered and died. He caught a glimpse of a man standing behind Mad Jack before plummeting towards the first floor. 

Joe screamed. The room whipped past him like a film on fast forward. Wind whooshed in his ears. A blur of black and gold rushed past him on the way to the ground. Joe shut his eyes and hoped that breaking his bones would be _that_ bad. 

Suddenly, his descent slowed. He opened one eye. A purple aura surrounded him as he gently floated to the floor. 

He stood and patted himself down, brushing off bits of glass in the process. He was a little cut up, but otherwise he was fine, and not a Joecake on the floor. 

“You okay there, Joe?” 

An Asian woman with short cropped hair and a stern, no-nonsense expression stood in front of him. She wore black cargo pants, military boots, and a mustard-colored turtleneck. A duty belt hung around her hips, slim and functional, unlike the bulky ones he’d seen on cops. 

But the most surprising thing about her, other than her sudden appearance, was the silver gauntlet on her right hand. In the middle of the palm, a purple circle of light buzzed with electricity. 

“How did you know my name?” Joe asked her. 

She bristled, eyes narrowing in irritation. The purple light flared and she shot at Joe. He screamed, and shielded himself with his arms, waiting for his molecules to turn to dust. 

But it didn’t happen. Behind him, there was a grunt followed by a thud. Joe lowered his arms. 

Bonefat laid on the ground, his body rigid, drool in the corner of his mouth. It was like what happened with Mad Jack right before he dropped him. 

Joe stared at the woman. “Did you just _Tase_ him?” 

She chuckled at Joe and walked past him, patting him on the head on the way to Bonefat. 

“Moià Bonefat,” she said, pulling out a pair of handcuffs from her duty belt. “You have the right to travel through time, space, and history without conducting unscrupulous activities that would lead to its demise and/or destruction. You will be given a fair trial and be properly judged. _Eragopay_.” 

She cuffed him, reciting the speech like she’d done it a billion time before. 

“E-excuse me, Madame,” Bonefat said. Joe could hear him grit his teeth. “I assure you that this is one big misunderstanding.” 

“Is it now?” There was dry amusement in her raspy voice. 

“Yes! You see, it’s all that Jack’s fault. I told him time and time again that stealing was wrong, but he just never listens. I was here to put an end to his wicked ways.” 

“Oh, how noble of you.” 

“Why, thank you, Madame. So, if you could kindly remove my cuffs and I’ll be on my way.” 

She twisted a band on her gauntlet and the purple light turned yellow. “I think Em would want to hear your story.” 

Bonefat’s eyes went wide in fear, like she just suggested he should swim in a leech-infested lake. “No, that’s quite alright.” 

“I insist.” 

She held up her hand and the yellow glow covered Bonefat. In a flash, he disappeared. 

Joe stared at the spot where Bonefat was, then looked at the woman. “What happened to him? Did you send him somewhere?” 

She stood. “I sent him… to be _dealt_ with.” 

“ _Dealt_ with?” 

A smirk played on her lips. “There an echo in here?” She twisted a band on her gauntlet. The circle in her palm glowed pure green, the color of magic. “Now to deal with this.” 

She pointed at the destroyed statue. It vibrated, then went into reverse, like a video on rewind. The splintered and detached pieces shot back into to the statue and it stood back up to before Joe ever toppled it. She did the same to the gift shop, reversing the damage Bonefat caused. 

When she was done, she turned him. “Let’s go join your sister.” 

~*~ 

Joe felt like he spent all day going up and down the floors. 

The woman led him up the stairs, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he met her before. He could probably chalk it up to time travel shenanigans, but it still bothered him. 

He caught a glimpse of her silver and copper wedding band. Gears whirled silently around the middle like a perpetually moving kinetic ring. 

“Thanks for saving me back there,” Joe said. 

She nodded. “Don’t mention it.” 

“So… do I know you?” 

“That depends. What’s the date in your own time?” 

“January twenty-ninth, two thousand eleven.” 

She pursed her lips, and glanced up in thought. “Kinda? Not really.” She smacked her hand into the gauntlet like she just figured it out. “ _Sorta_. You _sorta_ know me.” 

“ _’Sorta? _That’s not at all ambiguous.”__

__To his surprise, she laughed. “Sorry. Can’t give out too many future spoilers. It’s against union rules.”_ _

__“So no asking for your name, then?”_ _

__“I’m forty percent sure that’s fine. Call me Arkay.”_ _

__They reached the third floor. Joe was barely off the stairs when he was tackled in a hug._ _

__“Joe!” Anna cried._ _

__A weight he didn’t realize he was shouldering lifted, and he hugged her back. “Are you alright?”_ _

__“I’m fine.” She let him go. _The Book_ was in her arms. “Will fixed me up.” _ _

__“Will?”_ _

__“Present!”_ _

__A familiar looking brown hair man waved at them. He stood next to a handcuffed Mad Jack who squirmed on the ground like a fish on dry land in a desperate attempt to break free._ _

__“I’ll get _The Book_ eventually!” Mad Jack shouted at them. “You all hear me? It’s mine! Mine!” _ _

__“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Will muttered. He held up his hand; it was a similar silver gauntlet to Arkay’s. The yellow light blanketed Mad Jack and he was gone in a blink._ _

__Arkay patted Will on the shoulder. “Good job. Heal Joe’s wounds. I got the collateral damage.”_ _

__“On it, Missus Kay!”_ _

__Joe nearly forgot about the cuts on his arm. They weren’t bad, but he defiantly needed about a dozen Band-Aids._ _

__Will held up his gauntleted hand. The palm glowed green. “This might tingle.”_ _

__And it did. In the green light, all of Joe’s little cuts scabbed over and vanished, his skin good as new._ _

__As amazing as that was, Joe couldn’t help but be distracted by the man’s face. He knew he saw him somewhere before, but he couldn’t figure out where. Finally, it dawned on him._ _

__Joe snapped his fingers. “You’re that guy!”_ _

__“What guy?” Will asked._ _

__“From the falafel stand! I saw you a few weeks ago. You’re a time cop?”_ _

__Will shook his head and pressed a button on his gauntlet. It folded in on itself, becoming a silver cuff around his wrist. “No idea what you’re talking about.”_ _

__Was it Joe’s imagination, or was Will sweating?_ _

__“A-anyway…” Will said. “Thanks for the call. We’ve been tracking Bonefat for a while now. He’s been stealing valuable art for years to sell on the black market. He managed to elude us by always framing an underling.”_ _

__“That’s pretty cruel,” Anna said._ _

__“Most time criminals are,” Will sighed. “Thankfully we got one more off the streets.”_ _

__Joe couldn’t help but snicker. “The time streets?”_ _

__“You said you got one more off the streets,” Anna said. “So you _know_ Mad Jack doesn’t stay away for long?” _ _

__“We’re time agents,” Arkay said coming over to them. The room was just as it was before with everything fixed and put back in place. “We’re always dealing with crooks out of chronological order. It’s annoying, but can’t be helped.”_ _

__She turned her gauntlet into a cuff and smiled at them. “You two did a good job keeping them busy. Be proud.”_ _

__Arkay’s smile falters as her eyes spotted something behind them. She brushed past them and walked up to Izzy. She placed a hand on the top of her head and spun her around so she could see her face._ _

__Will swore, a faint accent slipping through in the cuss._ _

__Arkay’s eyebrows shot up before going back to an emotionless expression. She looked at Joe. “You said this was twenty eleven, yeah?”_ _

__“Yeah,” he said._ _

__“And you’re sure?”_ _

__“How would I not be sure?”_ _

__Anna elbowed him._ _

__Arkay stared at Izzy for a couple seconds longer before speaking to Will. “We need to tell Em and… _them_.” _ _

__“They’re on leave in Rome,” Will said. “Let’s not ruin their fun.”_ _

__“I know, but remember what Em said? Besides, they’ll want to know about _this_.” _ _

__Anna and Joe glanced at each other. Anna looked about as confused as Joe felt._ _

__“You two wanna explain what you’re talking about?” Anna asked._ _

__Will and Arkay flinched as if they forgotten Joe and Anna were in the room. Arkay cleared her throat._ _

__“It’s classified,” she said. “Nothing you two need to worry about now.”_ _

__“I feel like we should,” Joe said._ _

__Arkay grabbed Izzy by her outstretched hand and dragged her over to Anna and Joe. Izzy wobbled a few times before regaining her balanced and settled._ _

__Joe remembered when Mad Jack went near her, how he got shocked by her earrings. He guessed he shouldn’t have been too surprised she would have magical earrings that acted like bug zappers when bad guys were around. She and her dad were magic after all._ _

__But if that were the case, then why didn’t they go off when Mysterio was after them? Was he never close enough? Or maybe they weren’t charged? She spun them all the time, maybe that’s how she charged them, like a crank flashlight._ _

__He shook the thoughts out of his head and refocused. He’ll have time to ask her later._ _

__“Will Izzy be okay?” Joe asked. “The freeze spell will wear off, right?”_ _

__Arkay’s face softened. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a playing card. “She’ll be fine. The time-freezing spell Jack put on everyone in the building should wear off in a couple minutes. I suggest you two leave before then.”_ _

__She ripped the card in half. From the torn halves, green light pooled out and formed a swirling portal in front of them._ _

__“See you guys around,” Arkay said. “Ready, Will?”_ _

__Will smirked. “Right behind you.”_ _

__They stepped through the portal and vanished in a flash along with the portal._ _

__Anna sighed dreamily and hugged _The Book_ to her chest. “How cool are they?” _ _

__“Pretty cool,” Joe agreed. “How’d you find out about them?”_ _

__“I read it in _The Book_ once when I… took it without permission.” _ _

__They fell into an awkward silence, not looking at each other. Anna taking _The Book_ got them into this mess in the first place, but it also saved them in the end. _ _

__Maybe if Joe loosened his grip on _The Book_ , she wouldn’t have felt like she needed to prove a point. Maybe she wouldn’t have tried to sneak it away from him. _ _

__Anna flipped open _The Book_ and turned to the transporter page. “We should head back before everyone unfreezes and we warp in front of them.” _ _

__“Wait.” Joe put his hand on _The Book_. “Before we do…” _ _

__She frowned but closed _The Book_ , looking at him apprehensively. _ _

__Joe thought about what to say and how to say it before giving up and deciding to go for the direct approach. “You know… I don’t hate you, right?”_ _

__She focused on a spot on the floor. “I guess so, but you sure do act like it sometimes.”_ _

__Guilt stabbed Joe in the chest. “I know, and I’m really sorry.”_ _

__“I guess I do kinda make you mad.” Anna fidgeted with _The Book_. “I spy on you a lot, I take _The Book_ without asking.” _ _

__“Yeah, but that’s not an excuse for making you feel bad.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll try not to treat you like a nuisance whenever you want to hang out with my friends around, alright? And I’ll let you look at _The Book_ once in a while _if_ you ask first. Deal?” _ _

__She nodded. “Deal, and I’ll try to keep out your business.”_ _

__They hugged. It was a little awkward, but at least they were moving in the right direction._ _

__They pulled apart and Anna handed him _The Book_. _ _

__Joe shook his head. “Do the honors.”_ _

__She smiled. Anna typed in the coordinates, and _The Book_ warped them home. _ _

__~*~_ _

__They landed with a thump on Joe’s bed._ _

__Sam and Fred yelped and jumped back, Fred tossing the controller out of his hand. It bonked Sam on the head._ _

__Joe waved. “Hey, guys.”_ _

__Izzy rolled off the bed and smacked face first on the floor. They all winced. That was gonna hurt when she unfroze._ _

__“We’re back,” he said._ _

__Fred folded his arms, his face incredulous. “You guys went on an adventure without us?”_ _

__“It wasn’t exactly planned,” Anna said, standing Izzy back up. After making sure Izzy wouldn’t fall, she said, “I’ll be right back.”_ _

__She put _The Book_ back in the box and left the room. _ _

__Sam looked at Izzy and frowned. “Uh, Joe? Is she okay?”_ _

__“Her time is frozen” Joe said. “It should wear off—”_ _

__“Wait a minute.” Fred interrupted. “She’s _frozen?_ Seriously?” _ _

__He waved a hand in front of her face and laughed when he got no reaction. He started to move her arms and legs in place, like a kid posing an action figure._ _

__“What are you doing?” Joe asked._ _

__Fred said, “I think I saw it in a meme once,” like that answered his question._ _

__When he was done, he presented his handiwork to them. Izzy stood in a ridiculous pose, her legs bent like she was in mid-sprint, her arms to the side like she was flapping her hands in a bizarre attempt to fly._ _

__Joe couldn’t help it. He laughed out loud._ _

__Sam just shook his head. “Fred, don’t mess with her.”_ _

__Fred wrapped an arm around Izzy’s shoulders. “C’mon, she doesn’t mind. Right, Izzy?” He moved her lips to match his word, doing his best impression of her: “ _No I don’t mind at all Fred! You’re so awesome and cool and funny. Ha ha ha ha ha_.” _ _

__“That’s how you get your validation?” Joe quipped, his laugh dying out._ _

__Fred rolled his eyes, about to retort back when Izzy shuddered. She inhaled so deeply, it came out more like a strangled cry, as if she hadn’t breathed oxygen in a thousand years. She wobbled and pitched forward. Joe caught her before she hit the ground._ _

__“Joe?” Her eyes shot open and jumped up. “He’s here! We gotta—! _Waaaaaait_ , this is your room. What’s going on? And why does my face hurt?” _ _

__He explained to them what happened on their warp right up to the point where Izzy shielded him and Anna from the time-freezing spell._ _

__“Hold on,” Sam interjected. “You can do a shield spell?”_ _

__“Where was that when we were being chased by a nutjob with a gun?” Fred asked._ _

__“The same reason I wasted energy making him and his henchmen laugh,” Izzy said. “I don’t think well under pressure.”_ _

__“Well, I’m glad you did today.” Joe patted her on the shoulder. “You saved us.”_ _

__Izzy blushed and looked away with a small smile. “I-it was nothing.”_ _

__Joe told them about him distracting Mad Jack, Anna calling the time agents, and them subduing Mad Jack and his time thief boss._ _

__Every time he mentioned Mad Jack, Izzy cringed like she was about to be sick. He must have really spooked her._ _

__Joe wasn’t expecting Fred and Sam’s to _not_ be surprised by the mention of time agents. When he brought it up, Fred admitted they knew about time agents years back when Jodie warped them away on a mission to Istanbul. Joe knew about the trip, but that _itty-bitty_ detail about time agent must have slipped their minds. _ _

__“You two knew about time agents and you never told me about it?”_ _

__“You were at the dentist,” Fred said._ _

__“I wasn’t there for five years! Does everyone know but me?”_ _

__Izzy raised her hand. “I-I didn’t know.”_ _

__Fred hung upside down from Joe’s bed and pawed for the game controller. “What’s the big deal? With all the times we’ve messed with history and never got arrested, I figured why worry?”_ _

__Joe shot Sam a look. “What’s _your_ excuse?” _ _

__“Uh…” He smiled nervously. “You were at the dentist?”_ _

__Joe groaned and facepalmed. Let it go, he thought. Let it go._ _

__“So, the Monocle man,” Izzy said, spinning an earring. “I mean Mad Jack. He was arrested, right? So he’s gone for good?”_ _

__Joe scoffed. “Pfft, I wish. He was like twenty or something when we saw him at the museum. We’ve run into him plenty of time when he was older.”_ _

__Fred laughed. “ _Much_ older.” _ _

__“You guys know that man?” Izzy asked._ _

__“Yeah.” Joe shifted on his feet. “He’s kind of my uncle.”_ _

__Izzy’s went from confused to stunned in a half a second, her jaw dropping. She leaned away from him, her arms coming in front of her, and when she looked at him… she was _scared_. _ _

__“He’s your _uncle_. How… what…” _ _

__Joe was about to ask her what was wrong when Anna burst through the door, grinning and holding a CD case._ _

__“Hey, Izzy! I got the…”_ _

__She trailed off when she noticed Izzy’s expression. “You alright?”_ _

__“I’m… I…” Izzy looked around at everyone staring at her with concern. She clenched her fist and exhaled. “I should go.”_ _

__She grabbed her stuff and practically ran out of the room, not even bothering to say goodbye or grab the CD Anna got for her._ _

__Anna watched her leave, confused and a little hurt. “Did you guys say something to her?”_ _

__“Why are you blaming us?” Fred asked._ _

__“She was fine when I left the room.”_ _

__Sam folded his arms. “She was _frozen_ when you left the room.” _ _

__“It’s Mad Jack,” Joe said. “She got that way when I brought him up.”_ _

__Anna put a hand on her hip. “Let me get this straight: So you told her our uncle is a psychotic, criminal, time-traveling wizard who threatened to kill us on several occasions and wants to conquer all of space and time? I’d leave too if you dumped all of that on me.”_ _

__“I didn’t even mention _that_ stuff. She was spooked long before I said he was our uncle.” _ _

__Fred went back to video games. “She’ll be fine. It’s been a long day, she just needs time to absorb it all.”_ _

__Joe wasn’t so sure. The only other time she acted like this was the time when Mysterio whispered something to her that made her run out of the theater. Did that have anything to do with Mad Jack, too? Did Izzy somehow know about him?_ _

__He ditched this idea as soon as it entered his mind. He couldn’t imagine how she would. Before they met, Izzy didn’t even know about time travel. From what his uncle Joe told him, Mad Jack lived in an untraceable pocket dimension, so it’s unlikely that he and Izzy ever crossed paths before._ _

__But then he remembered how her earrings shocked Mad Jack, and wondered why they never attacked any threat before him._ _

__On top of that, there was also how those time agents reacted to seeing Izzy. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why. A couple ideas came to his mind, but she scrapped them all. Was Izzy hiding something from him?_ _

__Of course not, he thought. Izzy had to be the most innocent person he knew. This girl never swore, didn’t get most sarcasms and innuendos, and once told him that she bites the heads off her gummy bears and animal crackers before she ate the rest of them because she didn’t want them to suffer. He doubted she had anything to hide. Still, the thought nagged at him._ _

__Later that night while he worked on homework, he shot her a text, asking if she was alright. She texted back, saying she was fine. He started to type his next message, asking about her earrings and what bothered her so much earlier that day, but stopped. Would asking her be prying? He wondered if Izzy felt similar confliction when she tried to mediate between him and Anna._ _

__He deleted the text and settled on sending her a meme he thought was kinda lame, but knew she’d laugh at before asking if they were still on for tomorrow for their trip to the Craft Shack. She sent back an affirmation. along with a couple smiling and thumbs up emojis. Izzy liked her emojis._ _

__Joe smiled and went back to his homework, glad he didn’t scare her off._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, all! I got this one out pretty fast. For NaNoWriMo, I've been writing 715 words or more every day. I figured that way I'd have a rough draft of a chapter done in a week. I don't usually ask for reviews, but I wanna know people's thoughts on this chapter. I didn't spend as much time polishing this chapter as I normally do, so if it showed please let me know. I'm trying something new so I can get more chapters done faster but I don't want to sacrifice quality.
> 
> With that said, I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I've read this fifty times in the last two days. Before I update a chapter, I read it aloud to check for spelling errors and see if it flows or not, kind of hard when your throat hurts, lol. In all seriousness, don't get sick if you can help it.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Izzy ran away. Again. 

She hefted on her snow coat on as she exited Joe’s house, throwing a hasty goodbye to his parents before the door slammed shut behind her. Light snow fell on the streets of Brooklyn, blanketing everything in a layer white. Izzy shivered, but not from the cold. 

The Monocle Man… _Mad Jack_ , was realer than ever. She dreaded this happening for years, clinging to the hope that maybe that incident with her and her mother was a bad dream she’d mistaken for a memory. In less than an hour, she’d met her boogie man, learned his name, and found out one of her friends was his nephew. Could she trust Joe anymore? Could she trust any of her friends? 

_Of course I can_ , she thought. Just because someone had bad relatives didn’t mean that they themselves were bad. Her maternal grandparents disowned their only daughter to the point of not even attending her funeral, but her mother was the most loving person she knew. 

Izzy’s dad must have trusted Joe, too. Why else would he tell her to go find Joe if he was in cahoots with Mad Jack? If Joe was working with his uncle, something would’ve happened by now. 

This opened more question for her. How did her mother know that time traveling madman? Did she know about time travel? What about her dad? 

It wasn’t hard for her to believe that they knew about time travel and never told her. But why? She knew about magic. Her parents taught her what it was. They taught her how to use it, to respect, and not to abuse it. Why not tell her about time traveling? 

Magic and time travel might be similar, but Izzy knew they weren’t the same. With magic, the witch or wizard was in complete control of the outcome if they studied, trained, and knew what they were doing. Time travel, at least from Izzy’s experience, wasn’t as clean cut. You could be prepared, know your history, have the means to protect yourself, but you could still be at the mercy of others. Between Master Mysterio and Mad Jack, Izzy knew how dangerous things could get. 

So her parents kept it from her to protect her. 

Izzy sighed, her breath trailing into the air in misty wisps. She was being a brat. For one reason or another, some kids didn’t have their parents looking out for them. She was lucky to have even one who cared about her safety. Izzy shouldn’t complain about a few kept secrets when her parents only meant to protect her. Besides, she had secrets as well. How could she be upset with her parents when she was keeping her situation away from her friends and _not_ feel like a big fat hypocrite? 

Were her parents time travelers? It made sense the more she thought about it. Her dad read her history books to sleep when she was little instead of picture books or fairy tales. Her mom would decorate their home with old-timey knickknacks that always seemed a bit more authentic than a _Made in China_ replica. 

There were other things, too. Vague memories of vacations when she was no older than three or four. Meeting people she’d later learned were dead for centuries. Trips to countries that no longer existed. For years thinking the great pyramids were white, only to find out in the fifth grade that that was hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Things she disregarded because she thought they were simple misunderstandings. 

Those trips, however, ended with a visit to Egypt. Izzy remembered crying; her mother’s distressed face; cold, manic eyes that bore into her. She tried to recall more details, but it was like trying to roll a boulder uphill. Just when she was about to get somewhere, it would all come crashing back down, and she’d wind up back at square one. 

Izzy tried to put these thoughts aside that night and get some rest, but the thoughts invaded her dreams, morphing and transforming into strange and weird images that confused her even further. 

~*~ 

The next day at the Craft Shack, Izzy helped Joe pick out color chips and tried to stifle a yawn. 

The Craft Shack was this local hobbyist store that carried everything an artist/seamstress/scrapbooker could ever want/need/buy and forget they had. It was meant to be just her and Joe picking out colors for their trick box, but Sam and Fred tagged along and she was happy to have them there. 

Sam lagged behind, his nose in an engineering book. Despite declaring he had no eye for color theory, he chimed in every now and again, adding his two cents on what he thought about each shade of purple they looked at. Fred had… questionable taste when it came to color coordination. He seemed to think clashing colors would help them stand out more. It would, but not without damaging some corneas in the audience. 

Joe was dead set on picking out the perfect colors for the trick box Izzy built for their talent show. Joe was one of the most ambitious people Izzy had ever met. The talent show wasn’t for another month, but ever since Joe asked for her help, they’ve been practicing whenever they could after school. Izzy was practically finished with the box so they could start working on the payoff of the trick instead of just the setup. 

There were still things they needed to work on, outfits to buy, etcetera. It was a lot of work, but Izzy enjoyed it. At her old school, kids wouldn’t care enough to put together an act the way Joe did. She admired him for that. 

“How about this one?” Joe asked, pulling out another purple paint chip. 

“Dude, just pick one.” Fred waved a flippant hand at the row of paint chips. “These are all the _exact_ same color.” 

“No, they’re not,” Izzy said and picked out two different chips to show him. “ _Royal aubergine_ has more red in it than _uncut amethyst_ , which is a lighter shade of purple. See?” 

Fred nodded. “Oh, uh huh. Definitely.” 

Izzy frowned. “Was that sarcasm?” 

“Oh, uh huh. Definitely. Of course _you_ can tell the difference. You’re a girl. Chicks see more colors than guys do.” 

Sam shook his head. “Fred, that’s…” He blinked, reconsidering Fred’s statement. “Actually true.” 

“See, what’d I tell ya? All these names are pointless. _Violet Twilight? Lavender Razzmatazz?_ What even is a _razzmatazz?_ Some kind of sprinkler?” 

Izzy examined the last chip Fred pointed out. “It’s my middle name.” 

“Lavender?” Sam asked. 

“No.” She mentally kicked herself for even bringing it up. “It’s… Razzmatazz.” 

Fred and Sam looked at her. Even Joe, who was previously fixated on looking at colors, turned to stare at her. After a second, they busted out laughing. Shoppers gave them weird looks as they passed by their isle. 

“ _Razzmatazz?_ ” Joe asked in disbelief. “So your name is Izzy Razzmatazz Shabazz?” 

“Like the crayon?” Sam managed in-between laughs. 

Fred wiped a tear from his eye. “How much did your parents like the letter Z?” 

Izzy’s cheeks burned. “I-it was my parents’ incantation. When they did shows.” 

She signed more heavily than she intended. Thinking of her parents reminded her of Mad Jack. Her hands trembled.   

The boys stopped laughing. Joe noticed her shaky hands. “You alright?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Fred said. “We didn't mean anything by it.” 

Izzy clenched her hands. “No, it's not that.” 

“It's Mad Jack, isn’t it?” Joe asked. 

Izzy flinched. Her first instinct was to brush off his guess but then she stopped herself. She wanted to tell him the truth, to tell all of them the truth. She wanted to talk about her troubles and she wanted to talk about it with her friends. 

“You’re right,” she said. “I keep thinking about… Mad Jack. Yesterday wasn’t the first time I saw him.” 

“So you _do_ know him?” Joe asked. 

Sam and Fred were both equally surprised. She realized they thought she knew more than she was letting on. 

“No!” Izzy insisted. “It’s not like that. I don’t _know_ know him. Not personally, anyway. I mean, I met him once before, like a hundred years ago. Well, a hundred divided by ten, give or take a couple years—” 

“Slow down,” Fred rubbed his temples. “No one said that there was going to be math involved with this story.” 

“Start from the beginning,” Sam suggested. 

She looked down, twisting her earrings. Words were not her strong suit. 

“I know Mad Jack freaked you out,” Joe said when she was silent for too long, “but we’ve dealt with him dozens of times before.” 

“We haven’t actually seen him all that much lately,” Sam added. “He might’ve given up on trying to steal _The Book_.” 

So Mad Jack wanted _The Book?_ It made sense. _The Book_ was seriously powerful and could do a lot of damage in the wrong hands. 

Fred smiled with confidence and punched his palm. “If we do see him again, I’m sure we can handle him.” 

Izzy wanted to cry in relief. She was grateful she had such great friends that wanted to ease her worries. She felt guilty for ever questing if she could trust them. She wanted them to trust her, too. Which meant no more secrets. 

“I met Mad Jack when I was little,” she said. “Me and my mom went to see the pyramids. After that, it’s blurry. I remember his face, he said something or did something. My mom was so scared. She told me if I ever saw him, I needed to run. When we went to Mysterio’s show and he tricked me, _that’s_ what he told me. He said word for word her warning to me.” 

Joe shook his head. “That’s awful.” 

“No wonder you ran,” Fred said. 

“I never told anyone this before,” Izzy said, “but I trust you guys, which is why…” 

“Why what?” Sam asked. 

She had to tell them about her dad. But not here. Not like this. Her situation wasn’t exactly normal, and she’d already dumped a bunch on them today. Telling them would be easy, but how they’d handle it was a different story. 

“Brownies,” she said. “We need the Brownies of Coping.” 

The boys all looked at each other, confused. Fred was the first to ask, “Uh, the what of what now?” 

“There's a lot of to go over,” Izzy said, “and I feel like if I start babbling about it next to the yarn, someone will overhear and I’ll get vaporacted.” 

Joe frowned. “You mean baker acted.” 

“That’s what I said.” 

Fred held up his hands. “Wait, wait, wait. I’m all for free food, but why do we need brownies?” 

“To soften the blow of difficult news,” Izzy explained, “you always need the Brownies of Coping. Whenever my parents had some hard news to tell me, like when my goldfish drowned, or that the Easter bunny wasn’t real, they’d make me brownies and—why are you guys looking at me like that? Do your parents not do this?” 

“Uh, no,” Fred said. “That’s weird.” 

Joe elbowed him. “It’s not weird. It’s just… not exactly common.” 

“Because it’s weird.” 

“Wouldn’t this tradition of yours lead to emotional eating?” Sam asked. 

Izzy looked at him like he spoke in French. “What else are we supposed to do with brownies? They're not for show.” 

“That's not what I... Never mind.” 

“Well, if you’re making free food, I’m down,” Fred said. “What about you guys?” 

~*~ 

Monday after school, Izzy weaved through the crowd on her way to her locker. The hall was filled with students heading to after-school clubs, chatting with their friends on their way to the car circle, and rushing to make it to their busses on time. By now, Fred would be on his way to baseball practice, Sam to mathletes. Joe had left earlier that day to get his braces tightened. 

As Izzy stuffed her textbooks into her locker, a sheet of paper fluttered to the floor. She sighed. It was the pop quiz she had in math that morning. A big red 48% stared back at her, the second F she’d gotten on a math test since she’d transferred to H.G. Wells High. Mrs. Reynolds, her Algebra I teacher, talked to her after class about getting a student tutor to help her. Izzy didn’t mind asking for help, she was never the best at school. But getting help from another student felt embarrassing. 

Why did they have add letters to _math?_ Izzy thought. Letters, her only weakness. 

She bent to pick the test up as a group of giggling girls headed down the hall behind her. One of them waved at her. 

“Hey, Isabella,” she called out. “ _Loooove_ those pigtails, girl!” 

“ _Too_ cute!” Another one said. 

Izzy waved back. “Thanks, I—” 

Their attention was already off her and back on each other, laughing as they headed towards the bus circle. 

Izzy stood and grimaced. Those girls spoke _at_ her, not _to_ her. It left a bad feeling in her gut. 

“Hey, Izzy!” A voice called. 

It was Sam, making his way upstream through the crowd. 

She crumbled the test and smiled. “Hey, Sam. I thought you had a meeting with the mathletes today.” 

“I did,” he said, having reached her, “but Mrs. Reynolds had to cancel and go home. Something about faulty flip-flops and a cactus? Anyway, I figured, I meet up with you.” 

“Cool.” Izzy tossed the test into her locker. “I could use your help moving the box to the theater, that is if you don’t mind?” 

“Not at all, that is if I can even manage to move it. How big is it?” 

She pulled her hands apart and squinted at the distance between them. “It’s about Joe’s size plus some… so about a Joe and a half?” 

“Very specific.” 

~*~ 

At shop class, Mr. Morrison greeted them. “Miss Shabazz and friend, welcome.” 

Mr. Morrison was a middle-aged guy with long sandy hair and a scruffy beard. He always wore flannel and a permanent smile. Izzy didn’t take shop class, but Mr. Morrison was happy to let anyone who took interest in shop use the tools after school. 

“Hope you two don’t mind some company while I run out to get your cart. I got someone coming to fix the projector— Oh speak of the devil.” 

A girl with long dark hair up in a ponytail strolled in, her hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie. If Izzy had been drinking, she would’ve spat it out. Sam made a terrified noise in the back of his throat. 

Rin scowled at them. 

“Y-y-you have students fix your electronics?” Sam asked Mr. Morrison. 

“Isn’t that against several rules?” Izzy asked. 

Mr. Morrison laughed. “So is leaving you alone with power tools every day while I go chat up that cute math teacher.” 

“Wait, it is?” 

Rin shook her head in disbelief. 

Mr. Morrison clapped Rin on the back. “Patinkin here works better than the people who get paid to do it, and she actually comes down when you ask.” 

“For a price,” Rin said. 

“Of course, of course. I didn’t forget again.” He brought her over to the projector, explaining what didn’t work. 

Meanwhile, Izzy showed Sam the chest she’d been working on. It was a simple solid wood chest, with vintage gold corner protectors and swirly designs carved along the sides. A lotus flower was carved onto the lid. 

“Wow,” Sam said. “You made this yourself?” 

Izzy nodded proudly. “Yup. I designed it after my parents’ chest.” 

“Why don’t you and Joe just use that one?” 

Izzy deflated a bit. “I had to leave it behind when I, uh, moved. I’ll explain later.” 

Sam frowned but nodded. He inspected the chest with interest. “How’d you learn to do this?” 

“My mom taught me. That woman was the queen of power tools.” 

“You’re lucky,” Sam said. “I can come up with ideas, but I’m not the best at executing them.” 

“I can help you build stuff,” she offered, “if you want a flying car made out of wood, nails, and a mess of gorilla glue.” 

Sam chuckled. “Thanks, but that wouldn’t be at all practical.” 

Izzy’s laugh was cut off by Rin banging the projector with her fist. “What did he do to you _this_ time,” Rin muttered to herself. She mumbled curses under her breath and scrutinized the projector like a car that wouldn’t start. 

Sam gulped then cleared his throat. “W-what’s wrong?” 

Rin shot her eyes at Sam’s so fast he flinched. She glared at him for a second, before sighing in resignation. “Morrison manages to break this thing at least once a week. Usually, I can fix it by blah blahing the blah and blah, but I have no idea what wrong with it this time.” 

Sam cautiously walked over to her. “These projectors are pretty old. There’s a component that pops out of place sometimes when it gets overheated. Have you tried blahing the blah blah?” 

“I _did_ blah.” 

“Uh, what about blah blahing the blah blah?” 

Okay, so they weren’t really saying “blah blah blah,” but Izzy couldn’t comprehend their technobabble. They might as well have been doing Chinese Sign Language. 

Well, at least Rin understood what was being said. She tinkered with the projector as Sam suggested. It whirred to life and the light flickered onto the wall. Rin sighed and dropped her head. “Finally.” She slipped something silver into her hair that looked a bit like a flattened wrench. It disappeared into her mane of dark hair before Izzy could get a better look at it. 

Sam headed back over to Izzy. 

“Hey!” Rin called out. 

Sam flinched. “Eep! I mean, yes?” 

“Thank you.” 

Sam stood there, stunned. “You’re welcome.” 

Mr. Morrison pushed the cart into the room. “I come bearing gifts! Your payment, Patinkin. Heads up!” 

He tossed Rin a can of Cherry Bovine. She caught it effortlessly and cracked it open. She threw Sam one last glance before downing the drink and sauntering out of the room.   

“You pay her in energy drinks?” Sam asked. 

“Those were her terms,” Mr. Morrison. “Now, let’s load up this chest, shall we?” 

~*~ 

“So what do you think Izzy wants to tell us?” Fred asked Joe. 

The two of them waited at the porch of Izzy’s apartment complex and tried not to look like stalkers. Joe’s mom dropped him off after his dentist appointment and Fred showed up a little later, fresh out of practice. 

“Beats me,” Joe said. He winced. He’s gotten his braces tightened before and knew how to combat the pain by taking some ibuprofen beforehand. But the anesthesia was wearing off and his mouth was beginning to ache. “She already told us her history with Mad Jack. What could top that?” 

Joe fiddled with the object in his hand—some miscellaneous plastic and Styrofoam pieces mixed with a few rubber bands in a plastic sleeve. He’d been thinking about the same question Fred had since Sunday. He couldn’t figure out what was so bad Izzy felt like she needed to give them food as some sort of apology. 

Fred blew rings into the cold air. “Maybe she— oh there they are. Hey guys!” 

He waved at Sam and Izzy bounding down the sidewalk towards the two of them. Izzy spotted them, and smiled, waving back enthusiastically. “Joe! Fred! Were you twowaiting here long?” 

“I can’t tell,” Joe said, “my watch froze.” He handed her the object in his hand. “Here. You’d appreciate this a lot more than me.” 

It took her a second to understand what it was. She grinned. “Is this one of those DIY whirly helicopter toys?” 

“Yeah,” Joe said. “The dentist still thinks I’m ten. I usually toss ‘em.” 

Izzy oohed and ahhed at the toy as she let them in. 

“I guess it’s true what they say.” Fred shrugged off his jacket. “One dude’s trash is another chick’s treasure.” 

“The treasure, in this case, being a child’s toy that will break in six minutes,” Sam said flatly. 

Izzy’s home was a cozy little studio apartment. Some paintings hung on the wall he recognized as hers. There was a TV almost as long as Joe was tall across from a pink and turquoise bed-sized couch with matching polka dot pillows. Comics and art supplies were strewn across the coffee table. 

Looking around, Joe noticed how small her apartment was. He rubbed his achy jaw. “You live _here_ with your dad?” 

Her face darkened and he mentally kicked himself. He hadn’t meant to sound rude. 

“I’ll explain in a bit,” Izzy said. She dropped her backpack and made a beeline for the kitchen, letting her rabbits out of their cage on her way. 

“Cage” didn’t do it justice, it was a three-story bunny condo that took up a big chunk of the room, filled with toys, deluxe, fluffy bunny beds, and plenty of room for the rabbits to hop around in. 

Dini hopped out to greet them. Bess turned her nose up at them and stayed in her condo. 

“I think your rabbit hates us,” Fred said to Izzy, scratching Dini on the back. 

“She’s just a shy baby,” Izzy said. She pulled something from the freezer. “You guys wanna give them a treat? They like Bok Choy.” 

She handed Joe an ice pack. 

“This doesn’t look like Chinese cabbage,” he joked. 

She chuckled. “It’s for your jaw. It looked like it hurt.” 

“Oh. Thanks.” He was caught off guard by her gesture, he barely noticed the ice pack was the girliest shade of pink dotted with white hearts. Fred snickered at him but otherwise didn’t say anything. 

The three of them fed her rabbits Bok Choy while doing their homework. Well, Sam did his homework. Joe and Fred thumbed through her video game collection. There were the expected things like DDR, Guitar Hero, some sci-fi and fantasy RPGs for the Wii. Then he saw the last thing he expected to see. 

He pulled the game out. There was no mistaking the grungy white font splattered with blood and gore, and the ominous hill in the background. “What are you doing with a copy of _Hill of the Dead?_ ” 

Izzy smiled embarrassingly and scratched her cheek, smearing flour across her face. “I, uh, really like the atmosphere?” 

“Seriously?” Fred asked. “We played this game when it first came out. The lights were on and Sam _still_ nearly wet his pants.” 

“I did not!” Sam protested. 

“He totally did,” Joe said. 

Sam turned his glare from Fred to Joe before rolling his eyes and returning to his homework. 

After an hour, the brownies were finally done. Izzy called them over to the breakfast bar and handed them each a napkin. 

“I haven’t made brownies in a while,” she said, cutting them each a neat square piece. “I hope you guys like them.” 

Joe placed the ice pack on the bar. “They smell amazing.” 

Fred was the first to scarf one down in his usual way. He stiffened as if someone flicked him in between the eyes. “Oh, my God…” 

“What’s wrong?” Izzy asked. “Did I add too much salt?” 

“These brownies are incredible!” Fred grabbed the pan of brownies and started cutting himself a large slice. “Izzy, marry me and make these for me all the time. Better yet, I’ll just marry these brownies.” 

Sam rolled his eyes and brought his brownie to his mouth. “Fred, they can’t be that–” 

Fred pushed Sam’s hand to shove the treat into his mouth. Sam’s pupils dilated. “Holy cow.” 

“Right?!” 

Joe took a bite out of his brownie and understood. They were fluffy and sweet—but not too sweet—with the chocolate morsels still warm. It melted in his mouth. 

“How did you manage to bake happiness into these?” Joe asked. 

“It’s just butter and love,” Izzy said, “It’s my mom’s recipe.” 

“I can taste the love,” Sam said, getting another slice. 

Izzy poured them each a glass of milk as they chowed down on brownies. “Okay,” Joe said coming back up for air. “You sweetened us up enough. What did you have to tell us?” 

The three of them looked at her expectantly. She put down the gallon of milk and sighed, lacing her fingers together. “You already noticed that my place is pretty small. Well, that’s because my dad doesn’t live with me. I mean, he used to, but he left a couple weeks ago.” 

“So you live all by yourself?” Joe asked. 

“It’s not that bad,” she lied. She didn’t look them in the eye. 

Fred’s expression turned serious. “Oh, man.” Then he grinned. “You could totally through a wicked party here!” 

Izzy frowned. Joe and Sam gave him a _Seriously?_ look. 

Fred cleared his throat. “Just a thought.” 

“Anyway,” Izzy said, “weeks ago, my dad disappeared in the middle of the night. He left me a letter explaining some things.” 

She pulled out a folded piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Joe. He looked at her and she nodded, giving him the go-ahead to read it aloud. _“Isadora, when you wake up, I will be long gone. I can’t say for certain where I’ll be. I need you to follow my instructions very carefully. This is extremely important. It’s a matter of your safety.”_

So far, so strange, Joe thought. He kept reading. 

_“Pack up your things and move out as soon as possible. I put the address on the fridge; a moving crew will help you. Our home is no longer safe. Afterward, you NEED to destroy this note.”_

Joe looked at her. “This isn’t going to blow up in my face, is it?” 

Izzy shook her head. “I don’t think so.” 

That’s reassuring, he thought. _“Put these earrings on IMMEDIATELY. “Spin them so the sand is always pouring. The sand moves slowly, so you won’t have to do it often. I’ve enrolled you into a new school on Friday. Find the magician named Joe.”_ Joe shifted uncomfortably in his seat. _“He can protect you if the need arises.”_

“Why Joe?” Fred asked as if reading Joe’s mind. 

Joe lowered the note. “Yeah. I don’t know your dad. Well, I know _of_ your dad but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know me, like, at all.” 

Izzy shrugged helplessly. 

“Not to be that guy—” Sam started to say. 

“You love being that guy,” Fred pointed out. 

“Maybe your dad meant Joe’s uncle?” 

That made sense to Joe. Still, he didn’t think uncle Joe knew Izzy or her dad either. His uncle would’ve mentioned them before, even in passing. 

Joe continued. _“Money will be left for you every week for you to buy whatever you need. There will be more than enough for you to order takeout, buy painting supplies, or some other third thing. Think of it as an apology for my absence, though I know this doesn’t make up for it.”_

Izzy shrunk into herself. Joe felt weird about reading the next part, partly because it was so personal, partly because she got sadder and sadder the more he read. But she didn’t try to stop him and he already read most of it. 

_“I am truly sorry for leaving you with no adequate explanation. I realize I should’ve explained things to you sooner, the way your mother wanted. But we shouldn’t change the past, only learn from it. Isadora, I wanted you to have a normal life, unperturbed by the dangerous adventures awaiting you in your future. I only wanted to protect you._

_“I have no idea when I’ll be back. I WILL be back. Whatever you do, do NOT go looking for me. I know it'll be difficult, but understand that I'm doing this for your sake. Love, always and infinitely, your father, Anthony J. Shabazz.”_

Joe lowered the letter. The room was silent for a while as the three of them took in this information. 

“Now I get why you wanted to sweeten us up,” Sam said finally. 

“So your dad just left you all alone?” Joe asked. 

“That’s nothing new,” Izzy explained. “He’s left before, not just the time I told you about back at the museum. I have no clue where he goes, but he’s always back in a week and we _always_ talked about it beforehand. This time, I got no warning, no time to prepare. Everything was fine one day, and then he was gone in the morning. I…” 

Her voice quivered at the end. She cleared her throat. “I know it’s a lot to ask…” She looked at Joe with pleading eyes. “Can I use your _Book_ to find my dad?” 

He rubbed his arm. “I dunno, Iz. He said not to try and find him and—” 

“I don’t care anymore. It’s been too long. I need to know that he’s okay. Please, Joe?” 

Joe wasn’t sure. Her dad was pretty clear in the letter for her not to go after him. Joe may not understand what was going on with him, but it was obvious that whatever it was, it was serious. Izzy should stay put until he came back. 

But then Izzy gave him the puppy dog eyes, and Joe’s resolve shattered. 

He sighed. “Okay. I’ll help you find your dad.” 

He pulled _The Book_ out of his bag and Sam nearly fell out of his seat. “You can’t pull that thing out without giving us a warning!” 

Joe rolled his eyes. “Sam, do you know how many times I’ve had _The Book_ on me when you were around and we _didn’t_ warp?” 

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” 

“Yes!” 

Fred clapped Sam on the back. “Relax. Joe totally knows what he’s doing.” 

“Yeah, until he doesn’t,” Sam muttered. 

Joe was just going to ignore that little quip for now. He’s been doing this for years at this point, and most of the time (like five—no six—times out of ten) things went off almost without a hitch. He was going to become a level three warper any day now. For a kid whose gotten minimum guidance when it came to operating a magical time machine when he was ten, that wasn’t half bad. 

Joe flipped open _The Book_ and looked for any mention of Izzy’s dad. Usually, he could find a single person, historical or not, easily if he thought about them, as if _The Book_ was reading his intentions. But he couldn’t a single entry on Anthony J. Shabazz. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Izzy’s voice broke Joe out of his concentration. He realized he’d been scrunching his eyebrows. “I can’t find him anywhere. Maybe if I try looking for you I’ll get to him.” 

And he did, finding Izzy easily. _Isadora Razzmatazz Shabazz, born October 31st 1995,_ yadda yadda yadda, _daughter of Dulari Shabazz and                                           ._

Joe stared at blank space in total bewilderment. “ _What?_ ” 

“What what?” Fred asked. 

“I’m sure it’s just a mistake.” He turned the page and came across his family tree. He was ready to turn the page; he’d seen his own family tree dozens of times, but then he stopped. It wasn’t his, it was Izzy’s. A portrait of Izzy sat at the top of the tree, the thin, winding branches connecting her to her ancestors towards the base. Beneath her was a picture of her mother, a beautiful woman with long, flowing dark hair. Where Izzy’s dad’s picture should have been was a blacked out box like someone scribbled his picture out with a marker. 

“This is so weird,” Joe said, half to himself. “It’s like he doesn’t exist.” 

Izzy grimaced, her worry etched all over her face. Joe stood. “Let me try something,” he said. “Let’s warp back to the night he left. If we both confront him before he leaves, he’ll have to give us some answers.” 

It was a long shot, but at the moment there weren’t many other options. Izzy smiled, her eyes alight with hopeful determination. “Let’s do it.” 

Joe turned to Sam and Fred. “This shouldn’t take long, guys.” He opened to the transporter page. 

“Wait!” Izzy bounded around the breakfast bar and clamped onto Joe’s arm. 

He looked down at her. “You gonna do this every time?” 

“If I can help it.” 

Joe shrugged and hit enter. Green mist surrounded them and they were sucked into the glowing green cyclone of mist. 

~*~ 

Joe would like to say that after warping with _The Book_ for nearly six years he was a total pro. At best, five-and-a-half times out of ten he’d land on his feet after reaching his destination. 

Time travel with _The Book_ was a smooth ride as long as you were prepared and knew how to right yourself so you didn’t end up tumbling through space like a dead fish down a flight of stairs. 

Unfortunately, Izzy hadn’t mastered the technique yet. As soon as they left her apartment, she lost her grip on his arm. She yelled and flailed as she plummeted along, bumping into the misty walls of the wormhole like a pinball. 

Suddenly, the green mist around them stopped churning. Izzy slammed into an invisible wall and sprung back like she bounced off a trampoline. She was hurled, screaming, into Joe, the force of her impact throwing them both back to their starting point. 

They dropped back into Izzy’s place, crashing right on the floor on top of each other. _The Book_ bounced off Joe’s shoulder and slid to the TV. 

Sam and Fred jumped. “You guys alright?” Fred asked. 

Joe helped Izzy up. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“What the heck happened?” Sam asked. 

“I have no clue.” Joe explained what happened to the two of them. 

Izzy rubbed her shoulder. “H-has that ever happened before?” 

Joe shook his head. He hadn’t the slightest idea what the heck was going on. He’d never encountered this before. There was once or twice when one of them was stuck in _The Book_ , midwarp, but they were never slammed into an inviso-wall and pitched like a fastball back home. 

Izzy’s shoulders slumped as she went to pick _The Book_ off the floor. “Thanks for trying anyway, Joe.” 

“There might be another way,” Joe said. “I know who might be able to help.” He meant Jodie. He hated to admit, but Jodie knew how to work _The Book_ better than anyone he knew, maybe even his uncle Joe. If anyone could help, it was her. 

“You’ve done a lot already,” Izzy said. “I feel like a burden.” 

“It’s no problem, really,” Joe insisted. “I want to help you.” 

She smiled at him, but her eyes were sad. “It’s not fair to leave it all on you. I just wish I knew what was going on so I could help, at least…” 

Izzy hugged _The Book_ to herself, and green mist seeped from the pages, cocooning her. A final look of shock flashed across her face before she vanished into _The Book._

The three of them stared in shock at the spot where Izzy previously stood. 

Fred gripped the sides of his head. “We lost her again!” 

“Where did she even go?” Sam asked. 

Again that day, Joe had no answer. 

~*~ 

Izzy ricocheted off the side of a pyramid and fell on her face, eating a handful of sand. She stood and spat, trying to catch her bearings. The tall white pyramid standing before her told her she was in Egypt. Ancient Egypt. She turned. Nearby, there were remnants of an old settlement. A few people milled around, but it looked abandoned otherwise, with the housing falling apart. 

Further away was the palace. A sea of people gathered in front, their cheers audible even in the distance. 

_The Book_ was still in her arms, no doubt unable to slip away while in the vice grip she had on it. This was good. It meant she could just warp back home… that is if she even remotely knew how _The Book_ worked. 

“It can’t be that hard,” she lied to herself and opened _The Book_. “All I have to do is figure out what I have to do. Easy-peasy.” 

The letters on the pages flipped and twitched and swam around. Izzy shut her eyes and breathed, trying to calm herself. If she was too freaked to even read, then there was no way she was getting back home. She needed to relax. 

She exhaled and opened her eyes, the words less chaotic than before. She managed to find instructions and she stumbled through a couple pages. 

A burst of yellow light in her peripheral broke her out of her concentration. After a moment, a little girl no more than three ran from around the corner and bumped into Izzy’s legs. The little girl giggled and snapped a photo of her with a disposable camera. 

Izzy just stared at the child, unable to understand who she was looking at. 

“Slow down, Malpua!” 

A woman appeared from the corner, and Izzy’s heart sunk. 

Her long chocolate hair flowed behind her as she raced to the little girl, not noticing Izzy yet. The little girl turned and snapped a picture of her mother. 

The mother knelt and gently took the camera out of the daughter’s hands, a soft smile on her face. “Oh, Malpua, don’t use up all the film.” 

“Sorry, Mama,” the little girl said. 

Izzy dropped _The Book_. A lump grew in her throat, salt rubbed into the wound that never quite healed. 

The woman frown at _The Book_ , then her eyes shot wide. She looked up and met Izzy’s eyes, noticing her for the first time. 

Izzy gulped. “Mom.”

**Author's Note:**

> I make art. Check it out if you want.
> 
> [My DeviantArt](https://cbraxs.deviantart.com)
> 
> [My tumblr](https://cbraxs.tumblr.com)


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